


Life Found an Abbey

by R_Clearwater



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Also! There's totally at least one character death as per canon, But yes: this is totally a Modern AU meets the plot of Jurassic Park, Did I mention liberties were being taken today?, F/M, Gen, I may have created some of these tags while experiencing great sleep deprivation, Snarky chaoticians being chaotically snarky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 65,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23241316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Clearwater/pseuds/R_Clearwater
Summary: It seems chaos (and money) will be forcing Cora and Robert Crawley to reconsider what it will take to bring a near and dear amusement park to life. Now, they need to pray their selected experts will save the day.
Relationships: (mostly one-sided) Thomas Barrow/Jimmy Kent, Anna Bates/John Bates, Charles Carson & Elsie Hughes, Charles Carson/Elsie Hughes, Charles Carson/conflicted propriety, Cora Crawley/Robert Crawley, Elsie Hughes' brogue/everyone, Larry Grey/himself, Phyllis Baxter & Joseph Molesley, Sarah O'Brien/calculated revenge, Thomas Barrow & Phyllis Baxter, Thomas Barrow/chaos, eventual Phyllis Baxter/Joseph Moseley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. Prologue: The Amber Cage

**Author's Note:**

> _**Author's Note:** _Yup, you totally read that summary right! _Downton Abbey_ is meeting _Jurassic Park_ today. Specifically, we've got a Modern AU that'll have many of _Downton_ 's ensemble battling against newfangled technology, obnoxious brats, dinosaurs and a particularly scheming servan––technician!
> 
> Now, **_if you're skeptical of this concept,_** I completely understand. Here's the best part: _**you get to decide if this continues.**_ With everything going on in the world today, I only want to share this if it'll make a difference for you.
> 
> _**Disclaimer:**_ A lot of the script/scenes will be borrowed from _Jurassic Park_. Some of it will not. Almost all characters will be from _Downton._
> 
> _**Warning:**_ Seeing as how _Jurassic Park_ is involved, there'll more graphic description than normal (Hence, the T rating). Moreover, _**liberties have been taken**_ with characters, ages, personality, etc **.**
> 
> And, now, allow me to present what would happen if Life ever Found an Abbey...

The wind rustled through dark greenery, a combination of the evening breeze and ominous machinery softly whirling through the land. In the frost of the night, dozens of workers stood anxiously at the ready. Despite their calm exteriors, every individual contained within them a raw adrenaline that feverishly craved the quick completion of this task.

Surrounded by sweltering lights and soldiers, two stern women stood in the center of it all –– armed with blood curdling weaponry as they coldly stared off into the distance. Undoubtedly the most dogged individuals of the bunch, they were hellbent on controlling every aspect of this operation, unswervingly committed to tonight's mission.

The sudden mechanical outcry of truck delivering a necessary shipment stirred them into movement. The very thing that required all this hostility, the reason they were all lurking about, soon came into sight.

With it, adrenaline crawled into a new level of terror.

Orders were barked out as an enormous container, one with impenetrable bars and barriers at every exit, was deftly maneuvered to the ground. One of the two women kept a beady eye on the transport throughout it all, disinterested in letting anything else distract her. The other, the stouter of the pair, remained determined to keep every aspect of the operation within her line of sight –– not willing to risk anything.

Isla Nubar, an island located 120 miles west of Costa Rica, could not afford any sort of mistake. And as the container was mechanically lowered to the floor, soldiers and workers alike would soon discover why that was the case. From within the metal crate, fierce snarls and ragged snorts sounded. Whatever was inside that steel prison had no desire to remain there for much longer.

Peering out into the harsh lighting that came with unforgiving fluorescent lights, the creature spotted the two members of this pack adamantly command the others. She unswervingly recognized the merciless leadership right before her eyes, scanning the individuals before her for any signs of weakness.

"Push in team, move in there!" Beryl Patmore sharply ordered while May Bird bellowed, "I want tasers on full charge!"

As the workers diligently scurried over, far more interested in the money they'd be receiving for this than anything else, piercing shrieks emitted from inside. Undulated terror broke out amongst the group, hardly helped by Patmore's "Steady!" and Bird's ruthless "Go on! Step back in!"

Somehow, this rally of harsh encouragement and biting instructions managed to march them back into step. Against the odds, the odds now quaking in the face of this adversity, the workers did not back out of their respective assignments. They dared to carry on despite a petrifying terror strangling their nerves and silencing their common sense.

Accompanying shouts came from those ready to take on the mantle of the situation, those who were to push the container into an even fiercer prison. Guns were perched at the ready for any sign of trouble, the unlucky few designated for this spine-chilling task persisting in forcing the steel trap toward its final destination.

"We're locked!" Patmore cried out in relief as Bird took the helm, "Loading team, step away!"

Onto the next stage of this suicidal mission:

One lone worker climbed to the top of the container, perspiration rapidly developing from panicking instinct. It was her job to maintain a safe transference of whatever was inside that container, at whatever cost.

"Joanna," The shorter of the two leaders called to her, "Raise the gate!"

The worker did so, the excruciating atmosphere crackling with tension as she pushed open the gate in question. But at the horrifying encore of piercing shrieks from the cage below, as the creatures inside outright stormed out of their prison, she lost her balance and toppled to the ground.

As though a fierce wind had grabbed Joanna, the woman found herself screaming as she was forcefully pulled backwards into the cage without warning. But this was no benign wind of the island. This was nothing but a tornado of predatory determination spiraling out of control.

"Block the opening!" Beryl roared, racing to help Joanna escape this God awful nightmare.

"Don't let her get out!" May's voice was far harsher, reminding them all of the priority: the creature inside could _not_ escape. Joanna had known the risks and knew her life would be at stake; in Bird's eyes, the worker had become collateral damage the moment she'd lost her step.

Priorities or not, Patmore couldn't just let the woman die. Racing to reach their gatekeeper, she desperately ignored Joanna's agonized screams, unending shrieks that came from being eviscerated by the creature inside. Determined to help a fellow comrade stay alive, she continued to fight to take hold of Joanna, to do anything to get her out.

But it was too late.

Guns and tasers succinctly fired into the cage,over the harsh demand to "Work her back!" A cacophony of animalistic screeches pierced through dreadful groans and the scorching attack of tasers led to a horrific, penetrating sound of electricity finding its prey. Even with May screaming at the soldiers to outright shoot the creature, enough chaos in the air to overcome anyone, Beryl still felt Joanna's limp hands drop their hold on reality as the worker was deftly dragged back into the cage by that deadly creature...

_._

Jimmy Kent had _never_ had the desire to wind up in the Dominican Republic. Oh, the lawyer liked a nice climate and a good tourist trap as much as the next person, but the DR had never appealed to him. Yet, here he was, standing on what had to be the native's version of a ferry –– a water-craft he honestly found to be pathetic –– and waiting to step onto the only thing of interest: Mano de Dios, an amber mine that was currently responsible for all of his problems.

Really though, he was only here for Crawley.

"What's this I hear," The blond began with a feigned smile, greeting the man who had to be in charge of this operation with ease as the ferry drew closer, "About neither Crawley being able to make it?"

"They send their apologies," A woman interrupted the interaction, inclining her head to send off the man Jimmy had mistakenly believed to be in charge. Right then. He could talk to her anytime if it meant looking at that body of hers.

_Business, Jimmy. Focus on the business._ There'd be time for that later.

"Well, we are facing a $20 million dollar lawsuit by the family of that worker," _Though we should be lucky she wasn't American or it'd cost even more._ "And you're telling me that they both can't be bothered to see me?"

The woman was hardly impressed by the whiny quality of the lawyer's voice, choosing not to give him an excuse for her employers' absence –– it wasn't really worth the time or effort, in her opinion.

He, however, had a differing perspective.

"It's just that we _need_ to deal with the situation now. The insurance company––" Resisting the urge to snort at Kent's continued clumsiness, the man gracelessly stumbling through the terrain, Ivy Stuart offered a hand to help guide him through what he undoubtedly thought of as filth.

"You okay?" She didn't care either way, having been unimpressed by him from the beginning. He bristled at the question and the fact that a woman was the only reason his clothes were saved from the disgusting muck around him.

"I'm fine!"

This time, she disguised her snort as a cough.

Kent saw through it immediately. Flustered, now determined to keep pressing on in an attempt to change the subject, "The underwriters feel that the accident has raised some very serious safety questions about the park. That makes the investors _very_ anxious. I had to promise to conduct a very thorough, on-site inspection done by yours truly."

Ivy rolled her eyes, even more unsympathetic and irritated by this update, "Both Crawleys hate inspections. They slow everything down."

Jimmy refused to budge, if only because it was now a matter of pride: "Well, either I do this or they pull the funding." _Which is the last thing either of us wants._ " _That_ 'll slow them both down even more."

But Ivy's attention had long since dismissed the lawyer for a second time. Instead, her focus had been snatched by another worker –– one with whom she conversed in Spanish only to discover her presence was required elsewhere. Without a word to Kent, she followed off into the amber mine itself, enthused about leaving him behind.

Unfortunately, just because she was ignoring Kent didn't mean the man would do the same.

Her only treat that came with this man's obstinate decision was hearing him ineptly smack into a part of the mine, highly unaware of his surroundings.

"Watch your head." Stuart indifferently warned after the fact, not caring what happened to him. Well, now he really didn't care either way about her, having decided that a body like hers was no excuse for her poor attitude. So, once Jimmy made sure his hair was in perfect condition, he only put his attention toward the conversation at hand.

"If two experts sign off on the island, the insurance guys'll back off. I've already got Thomas Barrow, but they think the man's too trendy." She reached out for a piece of amber, the very treasure they were looking for trapped inside, as the man continued to rattle off his facts. "They want traditional, reliable, trustworthy."

_In other words, boring._ She knew of a few stuffy scientists who'd fit that bill, no doubt. Academia was swarming with them, "And just who do they have in mind?"

"They want Elsie Hughes and Charles Carson––"

"Hughes? Carson?" Ivy scoffed, properly distracted by this. Automatically, she recalled the reputation of those two. Renowned in their fields for a respectable amount of time, they and their team have commanded the attention of the paleontology community for years, to the point where they didn't have to accept projects they didn't care for. "You'll never get them away from their site."

"Why not?"

But she was already calling over her fellow workers to examine the amber in better lighting, no longer focused on Kent.

"Why not?" The lawyer repeated, highly insulted by the lack of attention.

Well, she didn't _need_ to respond. But, seeing as how the situation amused her and she knew Kent would never leave her alone if he was still curious, Ivy figured she could answer this.

"Carson will go wherever Hughes does." That much was clear to anyone who looked into their research: fifteen years of work together proved that the two colleagues were inseparable, no matter the circumstances. And the worker reckoned, contrary to popular discussion, it was Carson who stuck to Hughes, not the reverse. "And Hughes…"

Ivy Stuart stared deeply into the amber cage before her, eyes glinting in the mine's light as she carefully studied the piece, coolly admiring the one thing that kept this operation running.

"Hughes is like me." The woman darkly confessed, losing herself to the transparent yellow glow and the creature that lay trapped inside. "She won't stop digging until she's through."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As someone who only commits to a new TV show only once I understand the main set-up, I think it's only fair to do the same here. Therefore, I'll be posting the next chapter in just a few moments!


	2. Children, Claws, Coercion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** And now, as promised, a proper chapter to finish off the set-up.
> 
> Fans of _Ten Other Ways_ , you may notice a familiar (though, slightly altered) scene or two. And, speaking of altering, I had to play around with a few things here and there. Fans of the movie will see some lines have been split and changed, fans of the show might notice people acting a little differently than normal (Looking at you, Bates, Anna, Carson!).
> 
> In any case, I hope you enjoy this second part! If nothing else, it was fun putting these two chapters together.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I still don't own either _Downton Abbey_ or _Jurassic Park._

Charles Carson only had one question for the lot:

_Why Montana of all places?_

Make that two questions:

_Why here and why not home?_

It was something the man asked himself on a routine basis.

Montana had not been his first choice for a dig site. Montana had quite possibly been his thirtieth choice, and that was only if the scientist were being kind. But it mattered little where Montana ranked in his mind. That would be because, unlike home, Montana was the current hot-spot for unearthing life's secrets.

Which, at the moment, was exactly what they were doing.

Several hands methodically brushed off the residual sand covering the remains of the skeleton with their best tools, the team of diggers determined to savour every part of this they could. Working to unveil the earth's enthralling presentation of life over time, having this chance to truly engage with history in the paleontological fashion, _this_ was the reason why Montana was tolerable.

Or, at least, this was partially why Montana tolerable.

The other reason stood nearby, basking in the glow of discovery and the sun's encouraging beam.

"Dr. Hughes, Dr. Carson," John Bates' voice broke his concentration, pulling him away from the dig and his rather distracting thoughts. "We're ready to try again."

_Right. Yay._ "I really do hate computers," The man admitted with a groan at the thought of dealing with more monstrous technology, rising to his feet uneasily. "Trying again", in this instance, was John's way of saying "mucking around with infernal contraptions" Charles never cared for.

"Dr. Carson," A bandana to help him against the heat was soon wrapped considerately around his neck, a teasing Scottish lilt cheerfully ringing out, "I've no doubt the feeling is mutual."

He silently nodded, thankful for the help today and for the company throughout the years. That is, he was thankful until her response fully registered. Then the man settled for fondly glaring at his colleague, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her tease.

For the record, he was _not_ the reason they were surrounded by technology.

Not that he really cared about all that. It was true that, if Elsie hadn't been here throughout all of this, there would be no dealings with technology. However, if there'd been no technology, he would never have gotten as far as he was today.

It was one of the many reasons he was grateful for one Elsie Hughes.

Though, with poking teases like that, his gratuity had ducked out of sight for the time being.

With a distasteful grimace, Charles watched as Phyllis Baxter and Joseph Moseley worked with the machinery that would allow them to thoroughly investigate the ground below. Anna Bates –– née Smith when this adventure all began –– took charge of handling the computer while John Bates stayed nearby to make sure that the machine's readings were fully operational.

They all made a good team, having really come together over the years. It'd only been Dr. Hughes, and himself in the beginning, steadily working on any and all projects they could. Then Anna came along with John soon following, the pair providing support Charles never realized they would need. Joseph somehow bumbled his way into the picture, much to the scientist's frustration. But he proved himself invaluable over the years, much to _everyone_ 's surprise. And when Phyllis had wandered in by happenstance, it only completed the team.

"Did it work?" Moseley asked in the distance, remaining firmly by his post even in the blazing sun. Charles watched as Dr. Hughes unintentionally ignored the question, fully taken in by the machine. Right, he knew that look very well: it meant she was only invested in finding out the truth. He was proven correct as she started to walk behind Anna to look over her shoulder, oblivious to the world.

"How long does this usually take?" The Scot inquired, clearly fascinated by the new technology. He himself found himself more interested in watching her reaction to this advancement, finding it easier to stomach than looking at the contraption itself. She, at the very least, enjoyed this sort of stuff –– trying out new contraptions, humouring the team's curiosities.

Still, he'd take this over that old toaster of hers _any day_.

"Should bring an immediate return, Dr. Hughes." Anna replied, confident, "You shoot the radar into the ground and the bone bounces the image back."

The blonde woman continued to mutter to herself as she pressed a few buttons here and there, solely focused on solidifying the image that lay beneath them. He himself still didn't understand how _shooting_ a radar and witnessing any form of _bouncing_ wouldn't damage something in the process. But this is why he trusted his colleagues to handle this, and not himself.

"This new program's incredible." John remarked as the image came on the screen. Charles could suppose this assessment to be the case, so long as he didn't have to actively interact with said program. Give him the methods of the old days in a heartbeat, even if they were all deemed incredibly backwards by their community.

"A few more years' development, and we won't even have to dig anymore." Anna predicted, enamoured with it all. He shuddered at the proclamation, unable and unwilling to help himself in spite of her enthusiasm.

"Where's the purpose in that?" Charles bluntly asked, finding the very idea as distasteful as staying out here in the Badlands, "Or the style that comes with a dig for that matter?"

Dr. Hughes fondly scoffed at the words, looking away from the technology to send a look at her colleague, "Only you would find _style_ when it comes to digging."

But before he could defend himself and remark that style was at the heart of digging, the program was beginning to do something he really didn't understand –– a murky image now appearing on the screen.

"It's a little distorted," Anna piped up, garnering their attention again. "But I don't think it's the computer."

The scientist nodded to herself, stepping up to take a closer look. "Post-mortem contraction of the posterior neck ligaments. Velicoraptor?" She asked, turning to Charles. He nodded in agreement, inadvertently taken with the image once he gave it a proper chance.

"It's in surprisingly good shape, too. I'd estimate it's five or six feet high and possibly nine fight long." He reached out to point out that the dinosaur was––

"Dr. Carson, what did you do?" Anna asked in dismay, noting the screen severely glitched for a second.

Ah, yes, his curse was coming back to haunt him and make a mockery of him in front of all their supposedly wonderful guests. Said guests were remarkably well-behaved so far, staying a respectable distance away from the team until they'd been told otherwise. But he knew there'd be snickering at this little techno-debacle, a phrase Dr. Hughes cheekily coined these moments had first begun.

"He touched it," There was definitely a tease in his friend's voice, though that was to be expected after all this time, "I'm afraid Dr. Carson is not very machine-compatible."

"Dr. Hughes, you know as well as I that they've got it in for me," Charles retorted, feeling a bit flustered by her words and desperate to change the subject. "Anyway, look at the half-moon shaped bones in the wrists. It's no wonder they learned how to fly. I dare say their bones were crafted to do so, to take to the sky."

"My, my," Her voice was closer than he expected, tickling his nerves. "Dare I say that was a mite poetic, Dr. Carson?"

The rest of their audience, composed mainly of school-children, their teacher and the necessary chaperones, were more amused than anything else as chuckles finally broke out among them. Though they did quiet down upon hearing, "In all seriousness, Dr. Carson may have a point when he suggests that dinosaurs have more in common with present-day birds than with reptiles."

"Indeed." Charles concurred, pleased that she was on his side in front of such a crowd. It was a subject they debated on occasion –– he was always on the side that insisted dinosaurs actually resembled birds instead of the other far fetched theories she occasionally considered.

"Right," Joseph chimed in from the back. "I bet you can even tell us why, Dr. Hughes!"

She smiled, shaking away the attention by gesturing to her colleague instead, "Well, I have to say that Dr. Carson is far better at explaining it."

That wasn't true in the slightest. He could listen to any explanation of hers any time, her elaborations always thoughtful and captivating. But Charles recognized that this diversion was code for saying she had no desire to remain in the spotlight for whatever reason. And, so, he steeled himself in order to give a proper lecture to their visitors, having no qualms about suddenly taking center stage.

"Right. Well, look at the pubic bone, turned backward, just like a bird. Look at the vertebrae, full of air sacs and hollows, like a bird." The man turned back to the screen, engrossed in explanation and oblivious to his attentive crowd. "And even the word 'Raptor' means 'bird of prey'."

The scientist was unaware of his colleague's faint smile as he continued to explain the similarities, a smile that would soon pitch into a frown at a rather rude interruption…

_._

"That doesn't look very scary." A dark-haired boy from the back of the crowd snidely interjected, "More like a six-foot turkey. Are you sure that's a _real_ dinosaur?"

John Bates hadn't cared for this child when he found the boy insulting Anna and Phyllis earlier, right after the school group had first arrived and that supposedly good-natured "prank" had been played. The fact that the boy was British added nothing in his favour: his belligerent attitude ruined any chance for respect, let alone cordiality.

And now? Now that he was daring to insult a predator, a velociraptor, no less? There was now an idea that came to John, one that was determined to show the brat just what this creature could do. This tactic of teaching was as immature as the boy who mocked the dinosaur, but it was also far too tempting an idea to pass up.

"A 'turkey'?" John was surprised to hear Dr. Hughes's voice unnaturally calm, as though their work hadn't been insulted by a spoiled brat. Normally, she never seemed bothered by the careless remarks of children and strangers. But judging from the fact that she was responding to the insult with a frosted edge to her question, it seemed that the child's words were going a little too far today. "Remind me: what's your name?"

"Larry. Larry Grey." The boy seemed to boast about his name as though everyone should have recognized it and been in awe. Frankly, none of the team knew it and none cared to.

"Larry. Right." John smoothly stepped in, interjecting, "Dr. Hughes, if I may?"

Sharp blue eyes met stubborn grey, the request clear within seconds:

_You already know how he acts, you saw it yourself earlier. Please, let me do this._

"Of course, John."

He withheld a grim smile at her consent, turning all of his attention to the boy. Yes, it would have been great to see the Scottish Nodosaur –– the team's unofficial nickname for the woman, the Nodosaur was a rare dinosaur resembling a dragon –– out today. However, the Scottish Nodosaur would have traumatized the boy for life, whereas he was only planning to scar him for the next fifty years or so.

"Well, Larry," John continued, knowing that he needed to take his time with this if he wanted to get the message across. No doubt the boy saw his cane and presumed him too "crippled" to pose any sort of threat. But, that mattered little. "Just try to imagine yourself in the Cretaceous period. You get your first sight at this six-foot ' _turkey'_ as you enter a clearing. He moves like a bird, lightly bobbing his head. And you keep still because you think that his visual acuity is based on movement, like the Tyrannosaurus Rex. And, so, he'll lose you if you don't move."

Out of the corner of his eye, John saw Anna straighten up and continue to watch, a knowing glint in her eyes. She was always good at reading him, probably knowing exactly where this was going. And if she disapproved, he might've stopped right then and there, veering off toward a kinder lecture for the boy. Actually, even if she disapproved, he would probably keep on going this time. Larry's appalling words from before, in combination with that disgusting prank toward his classmate, meant that this lecture was personal.

But, luckily, his wife looked entirely unopposed to what would be coming. In fact, a hint of satisfaction was lining the corners of her face, discreet but visible to someone who knew her well. Either way, he had a dark-haired boy to teach and not a lot of time to get the message across. So, John went back to lecturing the child, lowering his _voce_ to a _sotto_ that would get this deadly message across.

"Unfortunately, that's not the case with the Velociraptor." The scientist took a silent breath, letting an apathetic silence constrict the air, his eyes squarely meeting this little boy's. Only when Larry Grey's demeanour flickered with trepidation, the arrogant mask cracking, did John continue to remark with great obduration, "You stare at him and he stares right back, quite aware of your existence. And _that_ is when the attack comes. Not from the front, but from the _side_."

The dark-haired boy blanched, looking distinctly uncomfortable with the conversation. John had no sympathy, having long since recognized the type of child that stood before him. Larry Grey was not someone who would respectfully listen to the world. Therefore, the man had no qualms over continuing to deliver these factual slices of fear: "The attack comes from the other two Raptors, the ones you would not and could not anticipate."

But he wasn't done.

Not in the slightest.

"Why, you may ask? Why were there two other Raptors? Why could you not anticipate their attack?" It was a mirthless chuckle he gave, one that sent goosebumps through the crowd, "Because the Velociraptor is a pack hunter. He uses coordinated attack patterns and he is out _in force_ today." Letting his words cut through the air, a wounded hush descending upon the boy, "Dr. Carson, you have a claw from one. May I have your permission to show it to Larry here?"

Even though Dr. Carson hadn't been a witness to Larry's earlier behaviour, he trusted John's judgment. He knew that his colleague wouldn't be acting this way without _very_ good reason. And though he would no doubt question Bates later, a glance at Dr. Hughes told him everything the man needed to know right now. "Of course. It'd be a pleasure."

John let a smirk slide into his smile, the boy being the only one to see this as he continued to stare him down. Soon, the claw was passed to him, the fossil indifferently resting in his palm.

Everyone on the team knew of Dr. Carson's prized possession: it had been one of the first fossils the man had ever discovered, serving as a personal reminder to respect any creature they came across, to never underestimate what could be found in their searches.

And today, it would be serving its purpose to the furthest degree possible.

"When he finally attacks," John began again, fully aware he had the full approval of any child Larry bullied and quite possibly the boy's teacher and chaperones –– if the lack of protest was anything to go by. "He _slashes_ at you with this: a six-inch retractable claw, like a razor on the middle toe."

Perhaps he was indeed going overboard with this lecture. But he very much doubted it. And at the sight of the boy's arrogant eyes widening to an unnatural degree, his face paling further than what seemed possible, John had no true regrets.

After all, if he was to be foolish enough to act the way he did, well, that was Larry's mistake. And better that Larry make this mistake with someone like John Bates than with someone like Elsie Hughes. Or, for that matter, Charles Carson.

Needless to say, had the boy treated Dr. Hughes much like he treated everyone else, that razor might've seen a live demonstration today.

But, now, to go in for the kill:

"He doesn't bother to bite your jugular like a lion, no, that's not satisfying for this hunter." The man proceeded to frostily inform the child, "He slashes at you here or here," Arching the claw through the air to mark each spot, the scientist stiffly drove the subject home with, "In fact, you are _alive_ when they start to eat you. So, perhaps you ought to try and show a little respect to the creature."

"Yes, sir." Larry swift mumbled, petrified beyond belief. John gave a wan smile at this, knowing that the boy was going to take this all a bit more seriously. And, thus, the rest of the lecture for the children carried on, as though no deviation has occurred.

That is, of course, except for the fact that Larry continued to warily eye the raptor claw with an uneasiness that never quite went away.

_._

"While I don't think we had to scar him for life, I appreciate you saying something." Anna Bates wasn't of the belief that her battles had to be fought for her. But, seeing as how her own words hadn't landed with the boy when she'd first crossed paths with him, she appreciated that John was able to get a message across.

Even if he might have been laying it on a bit thick.

They were tucked away in a tent, looking over the team's computer system in private. Everyone was on a short respite, taking some time to switch gears now that the school-visit was over.

Which meant she could finally talk about what had happened earlier.

"Did I really go too far?" Regret tinged his every word, causing Anna to firmly shake her head. When this didn't seem to reach him, the man now over-thinking the whole incident, she felt there was only way to get her husband's attention.

Reaching out and gently cupping his cheek, waiting for permission before she continued, her lips soon caressed his as appreciation was properly expressed. Mindful of the equipment nearby, they kept it fairly innocent and sweet –– the act meant to be reassuring more than anything else.

"I'm sorry, Anna," He said when they parted for air, mirth beginning to dance in his eyes, "But could you repeat that?"

She was more than happy to do just that.

_._

It is only later, when it's just Dr. Carson and Dr. Hughes taking a little time for themselves via a stroll through the rugged terrain, that any form of inquiry will emerge.

"Am I to take it that there was a reason behind John's lecture?" This is more rhetorical than anything else, the scientist fully aware that his colleague could have stopped that particular lecture at any time.

"There was." She curtly responds, not upset with her colleague but, rather, the situation. That the boy had been allowed to act the way he had, that it had taken John's lecture to bring some semblance of respect to Grey's behaviour. She normally liked children; she hadn't cared for Larry Grey, not one bit.

And when it is clear the woman will not elaborate any further, he takes it upon himself to find out the truth.

"Dr. Hughes, what is your opinion of Larry Grey?" The words are slipping out of his mouth before the man can think them through, the air stilling for him even as his colleague takes the question in stride.

"My opinion of Larry Grey is hardly favourable, Dr. Carson: I found him pranking one of his fellow classmates earlier this morning," Though, judging from the clipped tone, "prank" is undoubtedly an understatement for the child in question. "And I caught him acting in an unbecoming manner toward Anna and Phyllis several minutes afterwards."

Then that little lecture has indeed saved the boy from Nodosaur trauma. Still, Charles couldn't help but wonder if it would have been better to let his dear colleague and friend have her way and petrify the boy with a well-deserved lecture. "So, your opinion of children as a whole is one that…?"

They have never discussed the matter in all their years of working together. It is simply not done. There are far too many boundaries typically keeping them away from any sort of interaction like this. Theirs is not supposed to be more than platonic companionship, a solid working relationship that allows for paleontological adventures by one another's side, nothing more. To think otherwise is to take their habits and replace them with contemplations that are far from the working parameters of their life together. It would be atypical, an abnormal concept that would derail the definition of their relationship.

Yes, well, it seems that nothing is meant to be normal today. For instance, he rarely lets himself reach this level of melodrama within his thoughts, let alone hand his contemplations over to such sentimentality.

Still, sentimentality or not, he finds himself invested in hearing whatever it is she has to say next.

"I freely admit, Dr. Carson, that a breed of the species known as children could be intriguing." His colleague playfully retorts, happy to discuss what she feels is a fairly neutral subject –– even if talking about children is unusual for them. "And, your opinion of the species?"

Charles comes to a stop, gradually letting the question fully strike him before responding. It isn't one he's really given a lot of thought to–– well, no, that isn't truly accurate, is it? It's more of the fact that he'd stopped giving thought to that when it had become clear which path his life was taking.

"Although I could see some potential benefits, I typically find that particular species to be cacophonous, uncivilized, and expensive."

"It's the last part that particularly bothers you, isn't it?" She knowingly quips, a sparkle of mirth gleaming in her eyes.

But, this is one of the rare moments in which Elsie Hughes is wrong about him. And ordinarily, he would brush her response off into the sand, letting it fade into a dusty silence. How could the truth be of any help in this situation? Why possibly ruin a witty conversation and derail a beautiful friendship with his foolishly sentimental honesty?

Well, because this feels different.

And because this feels different, he doesn't resist the urge to correct her.

"Not really. Rather, it's the fact that having children would imply I'm not in the vicinity of—"

The jarring rush of a helicopter cuts off his words, taking their attention as the pair rush back to current priority: covering up their dig. Any disruption from the helicopter could set them back for weeks. And seeing as how it has taken them ages to discover this velociraptor skeleton, there is no way he can possibly allow said discovery to be ruined because of some rich idiot who doesn't understand the unspoken rules of paleontology.

"Shut it down!" Dr. Hughes repeatedly demands as she, much to Charles' horror, runs up to the helicopter. He doesn't care for those contraptions, finding them to be as newfangled as computers and _far_ more dangerous.

But she seems safe now. Safe and, frankly, more distracted than anything else as the pilot points in the direction of their little home. Soon enough, he finds himself watching as she stalks back over to the main trailer –– his friend quite determined to converse with whoever has interrupted their day. Irritatingly so, he can't join her just yet; he has to make sure every inch of the dig site is covered. But the second that's completed he will be following her and investigating the transpiration that has interrupted their work today.

Because, unfortunately, there is indeed someone inside their little home. That much is obvious.

Not only that, he also feels certain that there is something to investigate.

_._

It was with a sense of vexation that had Dr. Elsie Hughes striding over to the inside of the trailer, rather irritated by the disorientating behaviour that was the world today. Her ire only increased when she discovered a woman dressed sumptuously in white, a woman who was unashamedly rummaging through their fridge and radiating imminent prestige.

"What on earth do ye think ye're doing in here?" Her accent was slipping into a distinctly brogue-esque territory, sharply poking through her words as anger tossed aside her normal manners. Her nerves had already been tried today on three separate occasions. Suffice it to say, she was not in the mood for people breaking into her domain as though they owned the place. "And may I add that we were savin' tha' bottle o' wine!"

This only brought out a pleased grin from the woman as she eagerly declared in an American accent that, "I guarantee you were saving it for today."

_Hardly!_ Elsie was not interested in such inconsiderate behavior nor for such carefree statements. Not when it had nearly ruined what was and still is a very promising dig. And if this stranger didn't explain herself in the next minute, said stranger would be understanding why _no one_ dared to parade about dig sites so rudely.

"And just who do you think you are?" The scientist regained some of her manners even as she continued to snap, the sand from the outside world sliding off her as she tersely walked over to where the American stood. And, yes, she did note that the stranger still clutched their bottle of wine as though she owned the bloody thing.

"Cora Crawley. And, I'm delighted to finally meet you in person, Dr. Hughes."

_Oh._

Elsie froze, not knowing how to react to her patron standing in the middle of their trailer. Especially when she considered the ire she'd haphazardly flung at said patron only seconds ago. Luckily, it looked like Mrs. Crawley didn't give a hoot about the anger. Instead, she was looking about and declaring in a pleased tone, "I can see that my £50,000 a year has been well spent."

Yes, well, if Elsie has indeed managed to avoid botching this exchange, her dear friend's irate entrance just might do the reverse. For it was with an unusually loud bang that came with the door rapidly opening, Dr. Carson joined them with more than mere traces of agitation in his voice as he caustically growled, "And just who was it that so rudely––"

"This is our paleobotanist, Dr. Carson." Elsie sharply interrupted him, quickly placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down as she spoke. "Dr. Carson, this is Mrs. Crawley."

"Mrs. Crawley?" Dr. Carson was appropriately chastised by his own lack of manners the moment "Mrs." had been uttered, having quickly realized that this was the woman who helped to pay for nearly everything before them. He could only hope the American would forgive them both for their outbursts, suddenly feeling profusely ashamed of his behaviour.

After all, had it not been for this eccentric woman, he might have had to have lived most of his life working in a factory or some such equivalent. And now that he'd lived this life, this fantastic life working alongside this particularly brilliant woman, he could not ever go back to the other paths that had once been available.

"I am terribly sorry about the dramatic entrance, Dr. Carson, but we're in a hurry." Mrs. Crawley smoothly pivoted around in his direction, flashing him an inviting smile as though it were her home. "Will you have a drink? I'll just get a glass or two."

So much for being in a hurry.

Dr. Hughes noticed bemusedly that her colleague proceeded to try to be of use, probably feeling highly undignified about not being the one in charge of the drinks. But Cora was most insistent on managing her way throughout their kitchen, continuing to happily chat as she did so, all warm smiles and pleasant words.

"You know, I must say that I like you. Both of you." Their patron easily fetched the glasses in question as she confided that, "I can tell instantly about people. It's a gift that's served me well."

The pair of scientists slowly nodded, still stunned by her unexpected arrival and wondering just what it was that brought the woman here. Gifts or not, they themselves had no explanation for her sudden appearance.

Thankfully, Cora only took this confusion as her cue to explain the matter and finally put this mystery to rest.

"My husband and I own an island off the coast of Costa Rica. We've leased it from the government and, during the last five years, I'm pleased to say we've been setting up a biological preserve. Really spectacular –– and, as my husband likes to remind me, we spared no expense. Makes the one we've got down in Kenya look like a petting zoo." Cora chuckled, tickled by something within her own remark. "And there's no doubt our attractions will drive kids out of their minds."

"What, precisely, are those?"

Elsie glanced over at her colleague at his question, needing to air out some sort of a jest in order to regain her equilibrium. It was only that, and not the fact that said colleague was endearing when incredibly flustered, that had her quipping in response.

"Small versions of adults, Dr. Carson." She informed with a faint smile, ignoring his bristling as Cora continued.

"And not just kids, everyone." The American began pouring the drinks, comfortable with the multi-tasking before her. "We're going to open next year –– that is, if the lawyers don't kill us first. We don't particularly care for lawyers, do you?"

Thrown off by this blunt question, the two friends could only respond with neutral equivalents of, "We don't really know any."

Mrs. Crawley nodded, taking their responses in and calmly swirling her wine as she thought it all over. And though she'd done her best to make this all seem impromptu, her eyes revealed that this was a conversation she'd long since rehearsed.

"Well, I'm afraid my husband and I do. And there's a particular pebble in my shoe, one who represents my investors. He says that they insist on outside opinions."

This nonchalantly offered bit of information seemed to be exactly what motivated Cora to come here. Which could only imply that those outside opinions she wanted were theirs.

But, any good scientist knew better than to assume, even when the conclusion seemed obvious.

"What kind of opinions?" Elsie found herself asking, though her gut already told her the answer. Nevertheless, it looked like she'd asked just the right question, judging from the serene beam coming from the American in question.

"Well, your kind of opinion, Dr. Hughes, not to put too fine a point on it. I mean, let's face it: in your respective fields, you're the top minds. And if my husband and I could just persuade you to sign off on the park, give it a ringing endorsement, maybe even give us a winning testimonial, we could get back on schedule."

It sounded so simple when she stated it like that, so very simple and somehow so very persuasive. Had there been a contract in front of their faces, signatures would've been placed almost immediately. Yet the pair couldn't help but wonder why _they_ were the experts being sought out. Amusement parks never needed the endorsements of people who had spent their lives traipsing around fossils and roaming about the deserts of time.

"Why would they care what we think?" Dr. Carson confusedly inquired as Elsie asked, "What kind of park is this, exactly?"

"It's right up your alley." Cora confessed with a disarming grin as she handed them both a glass, her gaze relaxed. The American knew there was enough intrigue in this proposal. Hence, they would hear her out instead of flat-out refusing. It also helped that she could ensure their little operation was smoothly sailing, at least when it came to finances. "Why don't you come down for the weekend? Get an idea of it all."

"And just what is a weekend?" Dr. Carson muttered under his breath, only slightly jesting. The problem was, their work was never-ending –– especially now that they had a new discovery to work with. No, Dr. Hughes and her colleague both knew that they would have to politely reject this offer, even if it came from the woman who supplied them with this wonderful life of theirs.

"If you're asking that question, you need to experience one, Dr. Carson." Elsie couldn't resist a faint snort at Cora's remark, certainly not trusting the situation but managing to find humour in that statement. "Besides, I'd love to have an opinion of a paleobotanist as well. And I've got a jet standing by at Choteau with more than enough space for the two of you."

The pair shared a glance at one another at this, minds fixated on the skeleton that laid only a small way away from the trailer. To say yes to this trip, which would be going out of their way for what seemed to be a trivial matter, well, it just didn't seem right to agree to Cora's terms and drop everything. And, as nice as it'd be to spend a weekend with only each other for company, that was not a good enough reason to abandon their team with this latest dig and say yes.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Crawley," Elsie began, "But I'm afraid that isn't possible. We would need our entire team with us, _and_ we just dug up a new skeleton––"

"The entire team would also be more than welcome to come to our little island. I can easily have another jet on standby." The pair was still rather hesitant, even with that change in offer. " _And_ , of course, I could compensate you by fully funding your dig..."

It was a nice idea to have guaranteed compensation, but they really did have to adamantly refuse, "This is a very unusual time, Mrs. Crawley," "The timing truly is––"

"... For the next three years."

Once again, Elsie found herself caught off guard by the day's conversation. First, that brat Larry Grey and his atrocious behavior, then Charles' atypical manner when he not only helped John terrify Grey but _also_ brought up children of all things. And now Cora Crawley's more-than-generous offer, one that reeked of ulterior motive.

It was far more overwhelming than their latest discovery, to say the least.

And, already, they were being pressed for an answer:

"So, what do you think?"

It was in that moment that, after sharing another look with her colleague, Elsie knew what their answer would be. Three years of funding was incredibly difficult to come by, even for people who'd been working in the field as long as they had. And the amount of work they could get done in that timespan would be simply astonishing, to be quite honest. So, yes, this little weekend would only ensure that they could keep going in this little dream of theirs, this shared passion for fossils and the past.

"In that case, Mrs. Crawley, our only question is this," The American quietly listened with bated breath, eagerly waiting to hear the latest inquiry. "Where's the plane?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** And there you have it –– the main premise of the plot and a fair amount of the characters unveiled!
> 
> Now, as I said before, I'm only interested in continuing this if you guys want to see more. If that is the case, there'll be another update in 2-3 days. If not, that'll be that.
> 
> Either way, thank you for reading. That in itself is always a treat. And, as always, I hope you have a lovely day!


	3. Malicious Fires, Chaotic Attractions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May I say I'm quite humbled about the support? Actually, I'm gonna just say it outright: thank you so much for giving this story a shot. It truly makes a difference in ways I cannot begin to properly describe.
> 
> Also, fans of Jane Moorsum, please be aware: this chapter is not going to be entirely kind to her character here. But, this is the only time she'll show up, if that at all helps.
> 
> In any case, as always, enjoy!

It was a nice and gloomy day in San José, Costa Rica. The humidity was at a somewhat tolerable level, the clouds prevented the sun from glaring in on the situation, and the tourists were sufficiently disinterested in exploring the island.

In short, it was the perfect time to discuss a crime in the making.

Jane Moorsum slowly made her way toward what she could only suppose was a restaurant. A bag was slung over her shoulder, a briefcase firmly in her grasp. Sunglasses hid any nerves blue eyes might've carried, a hat shielding her brown hair from any attention.

She was determined to be just another person in the world, another normal soul in the crowd.

Yet she suspected there was no real chance of blending in. Not when her stomach churned with dread, uneasy at the thought of what today had in store. After all, people who felt greatly cheated in life had a tendency to bottle it all in, only letting their anger froth about when they had an audience. They lashed out toward the world, fiercely collecting wounds and grudges alike, holding a contempt for anything that didn't go their way.

And she had no doubt Sarah O'Brien felt _greatly_ cheated.

Which meant that she had to anticipate anything from the technician, this accomplice she was meeting for the first time. There might a histrionic outburst if one aspect of this exchange went wrong, a verbal explosion that would ensure their being caught. Perhaps the woman would be garishly dressed, determined to prove she was worthy of attention –– once again, garnering attention to what should remain indiscreet.

And while the guarantee of vast wealth should be enough to satisfy the woman, Moorsum didn't care to rely on that.

Walking further into the establishment, maintaining a wary gaze, she skimmed the crowd for O'Brien. Two bored couples glancing at the dreary skies, a sullen family looking ready to call it quits on their vacation, a man dressed in an abhorrent Hawaiian shirt loudly scraping his meal away, another tourist eating their unappealing lunch in disappointed silence, and a rather surly woman glaring at her plate.

Well, if she had to guess, there was only one conclusion to make.

"Moorsum, I take it?" Jane managed not to trip, but just barely. The furtive whisper, tinged with amusement, had come from the tourist tucked away in the corner, but how was that possible––?

_Oh, you're good._

O'Brien apparently was the type content to remain in the shadows for as long as possible. She relied on people underestimating her, assuming she was irrelevant. She probably lived for the shock that came when her true nature was realized.

Well, Jane wouldn't underestimate her. Swiftly changing course, doing her best not to clumsily pivot in the direction of the woman, she quickly took the proffered seat and put all of her energy into observing everything she could –– not willing to duped.

"Sarah O'Brien, I presume." The technician darkly chuckled at the statement, seeing through the feigned confidence. She knew her disguise worked, that her life spent in the background had trained her for these days of betrayal. And if someone like Moorsum was fooled, idiots like Robert Crawley would no doubt be the same.

"So kind of you to join me." Sardonicism was lightly sprinkled on the words, the indifferent tone working to her advantage. Sarah could tell in seconds that Jane Moorsum was the type to take offense to the littlest of things. Something that would guarantee the woman would slip in some capacity. She wouldn't push her too far, there was the money to think of, after all. However, a prod here and there would not only deliver entertainment but telling information.

"Thank you." Jane snipped back, determined to regain her equilibrium. But, already knocked off her guard, the woman could only glance around the room –– fervently scanning the crowd for any signs of trouble.

"Moorsum," Sarah pointedly brought her attention back. "No one cares about us. In fact, the longer you act as though there's something to hide, the more likely we'll catch someone's interest. So, take off your hat, ditch the shades, and focus. You can practise being a spook once we're through."

Promptly, Jane snatched her hat off her head and set it on the table –– defiantly refusing to remove her sunglasses. She was Jane Moorsum, a woman who was typically fantastic at blending in and deceiving the world. She lured in people of all kind, fantastic at emulating the air of an ingenue with deadly ease. _She_ was the one people underestimated, the one people were shocked by in the end.

Yes, well, somehow, Sarah O'Brien had swiped all of that aside in seconds and then some.

"Well?"

It seemed the technician already wanted her money. Money that Jane doubted O'Brien deserved, but money that Jane was in charge of giving.

"I'm waiting, Moorsum. But I won't wait for long."

It was with a begrudging thought that Jane mechanically handed the leather bag, the one that was a part of today's dirty little secret. The thing that forced her to tolerate Sarah O'Brien and the only reason she was here in this God awful café today.

"£750,000. On delivery, £50,000 more for each viable embryo." O'Brien did not snort or cackle at the sight of the bag, coldly looking it over. Delight may have run down her spine, but she was too well-trained to let any sort of emotion creep into her actions. "That's £1.5 million _if_ you get _all_ fifteen species off the island."

"I'll get them all." The woman darkly stated, a malicious fire burning away in her eyes. It was the first genuine expression Moorsum snatched from the woman, the sight chilling. Here was the cheated technician she'd been instructed to be on guard against, the one she suspected would explode if anything went wrong.

"Remember: viable embryos." Jane warned, suppressing the urge to shudder at those apathetic eyes fixing their gaze on her. "They're no use to us if they don't survive."

"Obviously." Sardonicism was making a comeback; as was the detached stare that intimated many an individual. But better detachment than that fatal fire from seconds ago. "So, how am I supposed to transport them?"

This, this question, brought Jane some of her confidence back. This part of the plan had been her own idea, after all.

Moorsum pulled out a can of Barbasol shaving cream with a growing smirk, succinct: "The bottom screws open."

O'Brien couldn't help but give a snort at the stupidly genius concept, knowing that nobody would suspect a can of _Barbasol_ of containing the embryos of dinosaurs.

"Clever."

Jane took the curt compliment well, proceeding to demonstrate how the embryos were to be carried. By now, she had confirmed O'Brien's statement that nobody cared about what was going on at their table –– everyone far too caught up in their own lives to spare them a glance.

"It's cooled and compartmentalized inside. Customs can even check it if they want to." Shaving cream, after all, would hardly raise any suspicion.

"Let me see," O'Brien instructed, wanting to test the shaving cream herself. Jane handed it over effortlessly, her smirk widening as Sarah inspected the device, eventually raising a faintly impressed eyebrow.

It truly was rather a genius concept, if she did say so herself. "There's enough coolant for thirty-six hours."

"No menthol?" O'Brien snarked. This time, however, Jane ignored the barb. There was no need to react, not when they were seconds away from a successful exchange and she would soon be leaving Sarah O'Brien far behind.

Still, if the exchange were to be complete, she had to remind the technician of her role: "The embryos have to be back here in San José by then or you can say bye to the rest of the money."

"Well," O'Brien crossed her arms, unimpressed by the timeline presented. "How the timing goes will up to your bloke on the boat. 19:00 tomorrow night on the East Dock. Make sure he gets it right."

Jane nodded, resisting the urge to retort something childish in response. Instead, she reminded herself that this was the last exchange she'd ever have with the woman. Which meant that she had to confirm a few things first. "How are you planning to beat security?"

"I've an eighteen-minute window," The woman crisply explained, revealing none of the finer details. "Eighteen minutes and your company catches up on ten years of research."

This was, of course, when the check for the meal was presented.

Both women stared at it, having forgotten that a exchange at any restaurant would've inevitably involved checks. Its presence lingered on the table, entwining itself into the unspoken tension between the two women.

"I would remind you _not_ to get cheap on me, Moorsum. That was Crawley's mistake." _That, and other things._

Jane snatched the check, irritated with the brusque command. She hadn't even had the chance to snag a meal for herself, and she was still being expected to pay for O'Brien.

_This research had better be worth it…._

_._

They were at Choteau, having finally made it. And after the incident earlier -– really, that had _not_ been his fault, those bags had had it out for him! –– Joseph Moseley was pleased to say that they'd made it to one of the final legs of the journey. He was pleased, that is, because this day had already been arduous enough. And while he wasn't really pleased about this particular leg, not caring for flying, he would keep it to himself until they got to the boat.

"Now, when the helicopter drops us off at the island,"

_Hang on a minute––_ "Wait!" Panic leapt up within him, "Dr. Carson, we'll be taking a helicopter _all the way_ to the island?"

Joseph knew a helicopter would be involved, but he thought there'd be a boat or something afterwards to break up the journey. He'd even packed dramamine, non-drowsy, of course, just for a boat. He had absolutely _nothing_ for a plane –– nothing except for his ability to tightly shut his eyes and ignore the world for as long as he needed to.

"Yes." It seemed Dr. Carson's patience was thinning. "I believe I've already explained that, Joseph. In fact, if you didn't hear me explain the other _three_ times this morning––"

"Now, Dr. Carson and I have been asked to sit with Mr. Crawley and the others," Dr. Hughes practically materialized out of thin air, resting a hand on her colleague's shoulder as she spoke. The result, though Joseph would never admit it, not in a million years, was instantaneous: Dr. Carson backed off from whatever tirade he'd been close to embarking and allowed the woman to continue in his stead, "Which you means that you, Phyllis, Anna, and John will be sharing the helicopter with Mrs. Crawley."

"Right." He weakly muttered, still fixated on the helicopter part of the bit. Though, wait, he would get a chance to sit with _Phyllis_?

"Dr. Hughes." Speaking of his best friend in the whole world, "All the bags have been loaded, just like you asked."

"Excellent." After Moseley's little slip earlier, it had been decided he was to go nowhere near the luggage. Which meant that Phyllis, John and Anna had been in charge of securing the luggage safely while Dr. Carson and Dr. Hughes handled any further communications about the trip –– having been talking to Mr. and Mrs. Crawley for the last fifteen minutes, finalizing a few more details.

"Are you ready then?" Dr. Carson's patience seemed to be thinning again, implying that Joseph was supposed to be doing something. But the man was still figuring out the helicopter bit, really very confused as to why there wasn't going to be a boat if they were going to an island. He really did believe that a boat had to be involved at some point, especially if they were going to an island. And though Dr. Carson didn't look to be in the mood to discuss why they weren't taking a boat anytime soon, maybe he could mention something to Dr. Hughes later.

"We're ready, Dr. Carson."

"Perfect. Let's get a move on, then." Moseley blankly nodded, truly fixed on thinking through the details. "That would suggest actual movement, Joseph."

Jolting her friend out of his thoughts, Phyllis gently guided the nervous man toward their helicopter before he could get in any further trouble. "Would it be all right if I sat next to you, Joseph?"

_That_ got him to stop thinking about the helicopter bit.

_._

It's one thing to be riding a ghastly contraption. It's an entirely different thing to be riding said ghastly contraption _and_ be surrounded by a sleazy sort of people.

Especially when he couldn't properly converse with Els–– Dr. Hughes.

And that was probably the worst part about the whole thing. Not the helicopter trip or the suspicious characters sitting right across from him, but the fact that he couldn't talk to his colleague.

Or, rather, he couldn't talk about anything he _wanted_. Conversation about the weather, about the distance to the island, about Moseley's incident with the bags when they were getting over to Choteau, those topics were fair-game.

But, seeing as how they were surrounded by strangers, it would be horribly inappropriate to mention how he liked the idea of weekend getaway with her –– with or without the team. It was also no doubt a terrible idea to continue their previous conversation about children, let alone to mention anything else of the sort.

Much as he wanted to correct her opinion of him and set things straight, this was the wrong time and place for those intimate topics.

And therein lied a hint of the real problem. For, ever since Mrs. Crawley's offer had been made, ever since that conversation about children and everything since, Charles had begun to realize that he did want to talk about all those things with her. He'd also started to understand that he had no interest in letting any more helicopters and adventures interrupt him. He only wanted to talk to her about everything, to create a deeper sense of intimacy, to see what was possible.

Of course, wanting to talk to her and being able to muster up the courage to do as such were two entirely differently things.

Furthermore, the second the patron's offer was made, time had brushed aside any chances for private moments. Time proceeded to unearth a sense of adventure for everyone involved, burying any sense of intimacy back in the Badlands. And so, even if he was desperate to dig it all back up, not wanting to waste another moment, it looked as though time was content to fossilize all of his efforts.

Well, at least he had the Raptor's claw to study. If nothing else, Charles could pretend to examine it, using it as an excuse to look busy so these strangers wouldn't bother him. He'd long since memorized every facet of it, so there would have to be a lot of feigned interest on his behalf. But, typically, just holding the claw would do the trick: people didn't strike up conversation when they saw a deadly six-inch weapon before them.

However, for some odd reason, the claw didn't deter one of the strangers. In fact, the paleobotanist would've wagered that the claw's appearance was the cause behind the newfound conversation, the man staring at it curiously as he asked, "So, you two dig up dinosaurs?"

Charles inwardly scowled at the flippant tone, his hold on the fossil tightening. Dr. Hughes gave a slight nod at the casual words, choosing to look at her colleague instead of the stranger. He himself was not in the mood to be interrogated by this stranger, preferring to distance himself from the man.

"Well," She began, turning back to the inquirer and trying her best to be diplomatic, "We try to."

The stranger nodded at this, "I'm sure you do."

Those words ordinarily came off as neutral. But this time they had enough cheek Charles stiffened in response, unsure as to whether or not the man was being sarcastic. All in all, that statement, along with the stranger's wardrobe, that had the paleobotanist on edge.

Simply put, the behaviour, let alone the clothes, confused him.

He was someone who was dressed in some of the most ridiculous clothes the scientist had seen in decades –– a leather jacket with some sort of black button-up and a rather gaudy necklace if Charles had to make a guess. In short, items that should've been left behind in the 90s or, better yet, the dustbin.

"And, you're a lawyer, right?" It was James Kent's turn to be under the spotlight, something that caused some relief for the scientists, at least for Charles. "I suppose you dig up paychecks––"

"I'm afraid you'll have to forgive Dr. Barrow." Robert Crawley dryly spoke up. He'd been the one who had met them at the launch pad, having requested to take a seat in this jet while his wife took the one with the rest of the team. "He suffers from a deplorable excess of personality, especially for a mathematician."

"Chaotician." Dr. Barrow sharply corrected, as though used to this mistake and frustrated it was occurring yet again. "Chaotician, actually. Though," He turned away from Mr. Crawley, uninterested in conversing with the man. Rather, Kent looked to be the most interesting person in his eyes, "I suppose you'd know a little about maths yourself, Jimmy, what with being a lawyer and working with money."

Sporting a smirk in the direction of the lawyer, the chaotician continued to direct his gaze thataway. No doubt, he thought he could strike conversational luck if he persisted in these coquettish actions.

_Great._ If Charles was going to be subject to listening to someone be "hit on" in the middle of this already arduous flight, he was going to have to seriously consider jumping out of the window. His colleague would stop him before he could get very far, but it really would be a rather serious effort on his behalf.

_Though,_ a very small part of him began to recognize, _at least it's not Els–– Dr. Hughes being trifled with._ That might have been too much for his nerves. Moreover, the longer he thought about it, the more he realized that –– if he did in fact attempt to escape the situation –– she would be force to take hold of him to stop him from proceeding any further. Which led to a pondering over just how the woman would accomplish that...

And with such traitorous thoughts diverting his attention, Charles missed Jimmy's attempt at a shrug, deflecting the chaotician's curiosity.

"Robert doesn't subscribe to chaos," Dr. Barrow drawled, changing the subject when it seemed the lawyer wouldn't speak up, "Especially what it says about his little science project. Though, I suppose it _was_ more of his wife's idea."

"Dr. Barrow," Mr. Crawley interjected, not in the mood. "If you're going to insist on speaking, I'm going to have to insist you be so kind as to explain your concerns about the whole thing." Barrow began to speak, but it was not meant to be, "Oh, that's right: you've never been able to explain yourself because of 'the behavior of the system in phase' space?"

"Exactly."

"Right. Well, if I may say so, that all seems to merely be a load of fashionable number crunching," Mr. Crawley continued to remark, indifferent. At first Charles thought that was the end of that; however, it seemed Barrow had thoughts of his own. Quite possibly acting in retaliation to the dismissive tone, the chaotician reached out a hand towards the man, as though to patronizingly pat his knee in some sort of jest. But, before he could do anything, "Don't even think about it, Thomas."

Disregarding the frosty attitude that Crawley gave, Barrow turned to the rest of his audience. He glanced everyone over at least once, looking to be computing some sort of speculation. It really did look more and more as though the man was going to persist in conversing with someone, much to Charles' chagrin.

And, seeing as how they were the ones sitting right in front of him, the paleobotanist could only assume they were next.

"Dr. Hughes, Dr. Carson, Jimmy, surely you've heard of Chaos Theory?"

"We've not heard of it, no." Dr. Hughes quickly spoke for them both, knowing that her friend wasn't interested in the discussion. Certainly not if it involved any form of chaos. Besides, she was better at managing tactful small-talk with strangers, having been unofficially delegated to be in charge of all such conversations for years now.

"No? How about non-linear equations? Strange attractors?" This time, they both shook their heads, the subject sounding neutral enough Charles felt comfortable responding. Nevertheless, their lack of knowledge hadn't ended the discussion. Rather, it merely prompted Thomas to turn the one person who hadn't responded to his question.

"Mr. Kent," He swiveled his gaze over to the lawyer, a bit of a roguish tease in his demeanour. "I refuse to believe that _you_ aren't familiar with the theory of attraction."

The man blushed a bit at this, flustered but refusing to dignify the question. And when it became clear that this would remain the case, that Kent would not engage in conversation, Thomas turned back to the others, a smirk now drifting through his face as he eyed them carefully.

Charles didn't like this.

Not one bit.

"Dr. Carson, Dr. Hughes," Barrow addressed them again, a curious quality in his voice. One that the paleobotanist couldn't tell if he liked. "Something tells me you both know a bit about the theory. Perhaps you've studied it _together?_ Tried out some of your own ideas, even?"

Mr. Crawley rolled his eyes at the insinuation, staring directly out the window and disengaging from the conversation altogether. Judging from Kent's intrigued stare Barrow, it appeared the earlier compliment went over well. In fact, he looked to be possibly on the verge of finally responding to the chaotician, having been inattentive to everything involving the paleontologists.

Dr. Carson, on the other hand, not oblivious to what was just said. Not at all. He was spluttering out some sort of response, possibly shocked gibberish by this point, indubitably taken aback by the innuendo. That the man would imply such–– well, it was impertinent to say the least! Dr. Hughes, too, seemed to be in a state of great bafflement, her thoughts not quite reeling but not quite stable.

So much for diplomacy and tact.

"I said it before and I'll say it again, Mr. Kent: we brought scientists. You, however, brought a rock star." But before Jimmy could get a word out in defense of Barrow's appearance, before the chaotician could continue to mischievously play with the group atmosphere, Robert's eyes had already caught sight of their destination.

"There it is!"

Immensely relieved for the change in subject, they all turned to watch as the cascading waves of the ocean gave way to the luscious island life before them. Desperation for a topic change aside, Charles was genuinely taken with the scenery –– the beautiful sight of land signaling that this horrid flight was soon to be over. He could only be thankful none of their team had been a witness to what was quite the mortifying experience.

"I'm afraid it's bad wind shears today. We'll have to drop pretty fast." Robert observed, rapidly taking the paleobotanist's focus away from the outside world and back to the helicopter.

_And what does that mean, exactly?_

"Hold on." The patron continued to tersely warn them, looking to be mustering as much dignity as possible in preparation for their descent, "As Cora likes to say, this is going to be 'thrilling'."

With that, the helicopter plummeted.

With it, Charles' heart.

Everyone snapped on their seat belts without a second thought. And when further turbulence hit the aircraft, he couldn't help but notice the fact that it resulted in him accidentally bumping into his colleague. Truly, it was absolutely inappropriate to find some delight whilst trying to survive this horrifying plunge toward their final destination. But, he did find it to be delightful, as much as this sort of thing could be.

And Charles had to be imagining this, but she herself hardly looked to mind these minor collisions.

"Dr. Carson," Dr. Hughes murmured to him over the sound of turbulence, offering her hand. It may have taken her milliseconds, but the act of her reaching out to him beautifully stretched out into infinity, "You can alwa––"

The woman's sentence was sharply cut off by yet another jolt as they continued to descend, too much turmoil for coherency. It was probably for the best that he hadn't heard the rest of her statement, seeing as Thomas was already smirking so knowingly in their direction, the cad far too collected in the fact of this newfound pandemonium. Theory of attraction, inde––

Another terrifying lurch and Charles was promptly shutting up.

It was only seconds later they were landing at last, the door swiftly opened by an island worker as everyone was eased out of the helicopter. Within minutes they were being whisked away toward flashy vehicles he could only assume were the park's main automobiles. Luckily, the rest of the team –– Anna, John, Phyllis, Joseph –– would be touching ground and trailing after them in just minutes.

Nevertheless, although their team seemed to have safely arrived, there was still one question bothering him:

_Jurassic Park?_ Charles wondered to himself as he looked at the ostentatious logo, glancing at Dr. Hughes only to note she had the same look of curiosity fixed upon her face. Curiosity or not, they both soon found themselves being guided to a vehicle they had to share with Dr. Barrow, while the rest of their team were guided to a car of their own.

Well, everyone except for Joseph. It seemed he drew the short straw when it came to waiting for another car to take him to the main part of the park.

In any case, Charles discovered that –– while he did not care for the chaotician's company –– he did not particularly mind the close distance he had to maintain in the backseat with Dr. Hughes. Reminiscent of the helicopter, but infinitely safer, the proximity was distracting enough he paid little attention to the conversation occurring only one car away.

_._

"The full fifty miles of perimeter fence are in place?" Jimmy bluntly questioned the married couple, not in the mood to be foolish when it came to his safety.

"And the concrete moats as well as the motion-sensor tracking systems." Cora reassured him, far more at ease than the lawyer. She, for one, was quite excited for this weekend's adventure, seeing it as nothing other than two-days of showing off their creation to people who actually cared.

"Mr. Kent–– James, my dear boy," Robert chimed in, feeling more at ease now that they'd safely made it to the island and content to ignore the lawyer's incessant paranoia, "Relax. Try and enjoy yourself."

Jimmy huffed, ignoring the fact that the image of a certain chaotician was coming to mind at the sound of relaxing. But, he wasn't in the mood for those thoughts, not when so much money was on the line.

"Let's get this straight, Robert, Cora. This is not a weekend excursion. This is a serious investigation of the stability of the island. Your investors, the people I represent, are frankly concerned. And in forty-eight hours from now, if they're not convinced, I'm not convinced." He eyed them both, "I'll shut you down without any hesitation."

Robert gave an empty chuckle at the threat as Cora shook her head.

"In forty-eight hours, James, Robert and I will be accepting your apologies."

_._

They continued to peacefully cruise through the grassy terrain as Elsie quietly observed the landscape around her. Whether or not this park was something worth their time, it was nice to get out of the Badlands and experience a different sort of atmosphere altogether.

_Especially_ , she thought with a brief look in her colleague's direction, _when it's with––_

"Stop here!" Her ears caught the words of Mrs. Crawley long before her brain registered them, their car slowing down immediately. Why were they stopping now? What could be so important?

"Well, this shouldn't be here." How Dr. Carson had obtained a piece of the plant-life so discreetly, she would never know. That he did so in the first place was of no surprise. When the man was determined to do something, to investigate a matter, he could be quite committed. It's what made him an excellent paleobotanist, and someone she greatly respected.

But now was not the time to ponder about respectability and Charles Carson –– she'd had enough of those thoughts on the plane. With another glance back towards the park, all thoughts of her colleague left her mind. Rather, she found herself incapable of doing much more than stare in complete amazement, quickly leaping to her feet within the car and standing up –– unable to stop gaping at the sight before her.

"Dr. Hughes, this species of Veriforman has been extinct since the Cretaceous Period." That he was still talking to himself informed her that her dear colleague had not caught sight of what stood up ahead. This only prompted her to reach out a hand over the puzzled sound of "I mean, this––" and gently tap Dr. Carson's shoulder in an effort to point him in the right direction. When that didn't work, she took the liberty of grasping him via his hat and gently turning his head in the appropriate direction.

His sudden silence told her that he received her message loud and clear. Without another word, the man rose to his feet, joining her and unwittingly mirroring her facial expression as they observed a Brachiosaurus bellow to the skies. The gorgeous creature's head reached up into the tree leaves, gracefully scanning leaves that had have to been at least two dozen feet above the ground.

It enthralled her.

To the point where she found herself exiting the vehicle, entranced, Dr. Carson not far behind.

The two of them carefully traced the trail of the dinosaur, floored beyond belief. Watching the Brachiosaurus continue to interact with the environment, a creature that had been extinct for _centuries_ , was something in itself. That the dinosaur was acting as though this were a normal occurrence... well, she couldn't believe this was reality. She needed to explore this, to confirm these apparent facts for herself.

"Joseph's going to regret missing this," Phyllis muttered from behind, signaling that their team had dutifully followed the two paleontologists. Yet Baxter's statement and the others agreeing was lost to the old friends –– both Elsie and Dr. Carson remained perfectly incognizant to everything except for the miracle before them.

"Look at that," She whispered, unable to keep from gesturing up at the beautiful sight.

"It's a dinosaur," Her colleague murmured in shock, feeling rather lightheaded all of a sudden when faced with such a reality. The statement was so rudimentary and yet so _impossible_ to conceive that he couldn't help but speak it. This had to be a dream, there was no way this could be real.

Even so, until he woke up, he was absolutely content to study it all to the best of his ability.

"We could tear up the rulebook on cold-bloodedness. It certainly does _not_ apply," Continuing to approach the Brachiosaurus in complete awe, she continued to mutter in amazement, "Far from it."

"They're absolutely wrong." The man concurred, gracefully sticking right by her side as they maintained a safe distance from the dinosaur. "This is a warm-blooded creature."

"This beauty doesn't live in a swamp." "It must have a twenty-five, twenty-seven foot neck, Dr. Hughes?"

"The Brachiosaurus?" Robert Crawley had arrived on the scene, "Thirty!"

With another commanding bellow, the dinosaur grandly rose on its hind legs to reach the food in question. Elegantly slamming back onto the ground, the surrounding earth rumbled in response and confirmed one thing in particular for Jimmy Kent:

"We're going to make a fortune with this place."

But the paleontologists at the helm of this exploration had no care for fortunes. They didn't need this to be a tourist trap, a scheme designed to make as much money off of the creatures as possible. They only had questions about the Brachiosaurus, inquiries about how this was all possible, and a fervently building interrogation –– one that was insistent on finding out how they could witness more of this miracle.

"How fast are they?" Anna asked, her eyes absorbing as much of the creature as she could. This was one of her favourites, and they were so close she could see every detail. The brown colouring that hinted of murky greys and stealthy greens, depending on the light. That stunning neck that looked to stretch on into forever, regally curling through the sky.

"Well, we clocked the T-Rex at thirty-two miles an hour." Cora confessed nonchalantly, approaching them to join her husband. Dr. Carson whirled around at this, paling at a certain detail, a statement that embedded itself so lightly into the confession.

"'T-Rex?'" The man was still working on unfurrowing his eyebrows even as he repeated, "Do you mean to say you've got a _Tyrannosaurus Rex_?"

Elsie's eyes were far wider than even she could imagine as she walked over to the trio, having heard every word. Her lips were battling between remaining open in shock and tightly worrying themselves on end, "Mr. Crawley, would you be so kind as to repeat that?"

Warmly smiling at the woman, he calmly repeated himself: "We have a T-Rex."

Now Dr. Carson definitely needed to sit down. Much like every other member of his team, his head was positively spinning. And though he made an attempt to stumble back toward the car –– collapsing in the grass was hardly dignified –– he felt a soothing hand grasp one of his own and guide him in the direction of the ground.

"It may be better to stop where you are, Dr. Carson," Elsie gently chided him as they took to the comfortable terrain, the man acquiescing with little protest. And as the pair did so, their team continued to look on in amazement as Robert and Cora took the lead, the patrons briefly basking at how they finally held every everyone's attention. Before they were only seen as the financial backing behind the park; now it was becoming clear that this was all a part of their personal vision for the world.

"Dr. Hughes, Dr. Carson, members of your fine team," Cora grandly began to gesture out into the island, pleased to be saying this at last, "Welcome to Jurassic Park."

With further looks of incredulity, the group realized that they were in fact surrounded by several dinosaurs of all types. That, contained within this island laid many creatures the world had long since dismissed as extinct. Beings they'd studied for decades, the life behind the fossils they'd encountered over the years now brought to life, creatures they'd grown up hearing numerous tales of, so many of them stood in plain sight after all this time.

"They're moving in herds." Elsie remarked to herself, stunned at the observations that could now occur. All of the possibilities before them were beginning to make themselves clear: they could obtain the details that fossils couldn't hope to provide, surpassing decades of research to properly grasp the beautiful reality of the past.

"They really do move in herds." Dr. Carson echoed, as taken with it all as she was. The level of understanding that could be reached now, the depth of appreciation, the scientific inquiry that could be garnered, it was staggering to say the least.

The pair now knew this had been the right decision to make.

They were absolutely certain this weekend would prove life-changing for more reasons than they could possibly know.

"How did you do this?" Elsie eventually managed to ask the Crawleys, unable to fully comprehend how all of this occurred. By this point, the woman was of the belief that, even if she had years to grasp what stood before her today, it would be an impossible feat to understand everything.

No, what was being witnessed today was far beyond comprehension.

And would be so for quite some time.

Cora knelt down in the grass beside her, inordinately thrilled that these individuals genuinely shared her fascination with the creatures. That she could now demonstrate her knowledge to people who would relish the facts, that someone else carried the same level of interest. That these last five years hadn't been a waste, that this weekend would be just as successful.

"I'll show you." The woman whispered, so very content to let the adventure properly begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I just had to make O'Brien the tech villain in this. I just couldn't do it to Thomas, not after all this time! 
> 
> And though there were other possibilities, they didn't seem appropriate. Green makes my skin crawl and I would've made sure his ending was particular fitting in response to his disgusting arc on the show (no doubt bumping this up to M or E). So, since we don't need to go down such a path, we're not going to. Now, Carlisle would never realistically be in the shadows, not these shadows. I couldn't take Tufton seriously in this role, and the royal servants would've been excessive here. But I can see O'Brien doing everything Nedry does –– with a whole lot more subtlety, of course.
> 
> In any case, as fans of the movie have probably already concluded: she will not be identical to Nedry's character. There will be parallels, but she is going to be O'Brien through and through (though I did insert a veerrrryyy subtle shout-out to Nedry in this chapter, in the beginning).
> 
> Now, just like before, it should only be 2-3 days for an update to arrive! And, please, if there's anything you'd like to see, definitely let me know.
> 
> As always, have a lovely day! Thanks again for reading!


	4. Job Extinction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** More conversation than anything else today, but necessary. In other words, this is the last [semi] calm chapter before the storm.
> 
> Also, as a shout-out to another _fascinating_ sci-fi franchise: although he has been gone for a few years now, it is Leonard Nimoy's birthday! And if that doesn't demonstrate how geeky I am, I hope you all are able to keep moving forward in life so you can Live Long and Prosper.
> 
> **Warning:** There's some strong language from the film that'll show up in this chapter. Moreover, although I tried to skim over a particular scene as best as I could, there'll be a brief mentioning of what happens when Raptors encounter a cow.
> 
> In any case, as always, enjoy!

Before she knew it, Phyllis Baxter found herself being to what had to have been one of the main buildings of the park. Although its aesthetic was a tad childish in her personal opinion, it did serve to somewhat blend in with its surroundings. Moreover, it looked as though the rest of her colleagues looked quite taken with the design -– other than, unsurprisingly, Dr. Carson, and perhaps John as well as Dr. Hughes. Either way, it looked like the time for admiring the architecture was coming to an end as Mrs. Crawley began to speak.

"Good day," Cora greeted the workers inside the main room as Robert began to explain to them all, "The most advanced amusement park in all the world, incorporating all the latest technologies."

"And, we're not just talking about rides," The American added, quite thrilled by everyone's looks of awe and delight. The main room itself was expansive, radiating a certain sort of wealth that hammered home the idea of sparing no expense. Sunlight happily beamed in through the windows, the staircase itself the very picture of luxury. "Everyone has rides. But, no, we've made living biological attractions so astounding that they'll capture the imagination of the entire planet."

Oddly enough, Phyllis knew believed them to be right. She had her own misgivings about all this, alarm bells softly chiming away in the back of her mind. But, however this weekend would end, the woman knew the couple were right in this aspect.

"What do you think, Dr. Hughes?" She also had little doubt that Dr. Carson meant for his question to be discreetly whispered, with no one else privy to the sound. But seeing as how she was fairly close to the two scientists, it looked like there'd be no real discretion.

"Dr. Carson, I do believe we'll soon be out of a job." The reply was playful yet candid. It received a solemn nod of agreement. Personally, Phyllis hadn't thought of it like that; she'd thought that scientists could help bring life to these creatures and this park, possibly help ensure that this experience did work out as best as it could.

"Don't you mean, 'extinct'?" Dr. Barrow, ever the provocative chaotician, coyly asked as he walked by.

Well, _that_ wasn't all that funny. But it wasn't her place to interfere.

And, she couldn't explain it, but Phyllis felt there was more to this Thomas character than met the eye.

Eventually, after a series of turns and steps that Phyllis theorized took them in a large equivalent of a circle, they wound up at some sort of roller coaster ride –– one filled with enough seats for everyone. Glancing around, she spotted Joseph slowly edging over to one of the safer seats tucked in the middle. Smiling faintly to herself, she wordlessly joined the man, surprising him yet again when she took a seat right by him.

Of course, since she was an observer of the world and a scientist to boot, she couldn't remain stuck watching her friend become flustered at her presence. Instead, the paleontologist looked around, noting the other interactions.

Anna was with her husband, the pair looking around their seats in curiosity, quite possibly contemplating how to escape in case of an emergency or boredom. Dr. Barrow looked to be living the whole experience up in his own way, engaging Mr. Kent in conversation and indifferently making his way over to an unoccupied section of the ride –– continuing to stand despite prior instructions to the contrary. In contrast, it seemed Dr. Carson was insistent that Dr. Hughes remain in her seat long before the ride started, having picked the safest seats possible in the front row.

Apparently, the paleobotanist wasn't one for living life on the edge in such a fashion, if in any fashion.

Not that this was a surprise to anyone.

"Now, why don't you all sit down?" Mr. Crawley politely asked. Mrs. Crawley, on the other hand, flatly instructed, "James, Thomas, sit down."

Once they all were settled down, that's when the supposed fun began. There was a somewhat endearing animated clip, one that required the presence of both Mr. and Mrs. Crawley, explaining that these dinosaurs were created using amphibian DNA –– specifically, that of a frog. And though Phyllis was all for educating others in an entertaining way, she found herself unimpressed by the almost patronizing manner of the video.

The real fun began, in her opinion, after the tour started and their little ride kicked into gear. She quickly scanned the laboratory they were now passing by, trying to glean every detail she could in search for more in-depth answers to the process. This was while her brain was whittling down scientific possibilities and generating more questions, carrying a boundless energy that was eager to unearth more answers to all inquiries she held.

"But, wait a minute –– how do you interrupt the cellular mitosis?" Anna turned to ask Cora. In the meantime, Joseph politely requested the chance to see an unfertilized egg, causing the patrons to beam with pride even as they gave an unsatisfying response.

"We'll be able to answer all questions shortly," Robert reassured them as Phyllis found herself to be too curious to contain herself. It wasn't often her career literally came to life like this and she couldn't help but crave further understanding.

"Would it be possible to see the labs properly, Mr. Crawley, Mrs. Crawley?" She asked, keeping her tone kind yet firm. A tour designed to give a basic comprehension, all free of charge, was kind. But they deserved to learn everything possible if they were to accurately assess the park.

"I am sorry, Miss Baxter. You'll have to wait until the end of the ride."

Right then. Normally, Phyllis was all for nice manners and respecting the wishes of her hosts. In fact, had that really been the end of the conversation, she would've undoubtedly remained in her seat, acquiescing to the unspoken request.

However, Dr. Hughes didn't look to be accepting that for an answer. Neither did John, Anna, or Dr. Barrow. Of course, Joseph looked content to remain in his seat. Yet fascination did pepper itself in his contentment, his eyes repeatedly finding themselves gazing back in the direction of the lab. Similarly, Dr. Carson seemed to be a mixture of curiosity and decorum –– the internal debate radiating in his perturbed demeanour.

So, when Dr. Hughes and the three others neatly hopped out of their seats without warning, they weren't alone. And though Dr. Carson had muttered it was only about ensuring the others' safety, lecturing his oldest friend on the dangers of exiting a ride before it was over, Phyllis knew that he was just as fascinated as the rest of them.

"Shall we join them?" The scientist calmly put to Joseph, offering her hand and the chance to join their friends in this unorthodox exploration.

He didn't hesitate, not one bit.

"Can they do that?" Jimmy asked, vexed to say the least, watching as the rest of the small group proceeded to duck out of the ride and head back towards the lab. Phyllis only smiled at the sound of this, feeling unusually pleased that they hadn't simply gone along with the requests of their patrons.

For now it was time to get some proper answers, to see the science behind this miracle.

Something that she'd been looking forward to since the start of this adventure.

_._

" _Reminder,"_ The tinny voice was the first thing that Anna caught as everyone entered the long since awaited laboratory. " _The boats will be leaving at 1900 hours. All personnel will be at the dock no later than 1845. No exceptions."_

"Good day, Henry," Mrs. Crawley cordially stepped towards one of the scientists in the room, ignoring the intercom's reminder in favour of greeting her head scientist.

"Good day, ma'am." But none of Anna's fellow colleagues, not even Dr. Hughes or Dr. Carson, cared to exchange pleasantries. All they wanted was to take a step closer to those dinosaur eggs just lurking only a short distance away.

"The machine is turning the eggs," Dr. Carson whispered in astonishment with Dr. Hughes nodding as they observed the contraption in action. That's when Anna spotted it: the tiniest of movements coming from the far left of the table. The scientist couldn't help herself: she quickly sped over to that section of the table and leaned in to get as good a look as she could get.

"Oh, perfect timing," Henry remarked, a bit relieved at the realization. "I'd hoped they'd hatch before I had to go to the boat."

"Henry, why didn't you tell us?" Mrs. Crawley had somehow maneuvered her way to the front, her husband having been left in charge of handling Jimmy. And, glancing at the intrigued crowd, "We insist on being here when they're born."

And what a sight it was turning out to be! They all watched as the baby dinosaur began to properly hatch, slowly crawling out of its egg with an innocence that couldn't possibly be replicated. Without any trepidation Mrs. Crawley explained the imprinting that naturally occurred, describing how the dinosaurs always became attached to either herself or Robert.

Anna couldn't help but wonder why they couldn't play with the little darling and have it imprint on them instead. She knew it was a terrible idea in the long-term, but she also knew she wasn't the only scientist thinking it –– Dr. Carson, for instance, looked to be surprisingly taken with the adorable creature. So did Dr. Hughes, now that the blonde took a closer observation.

"We've been present for the birth of every little creature on this island." Mr. Crawley explained, Anna finding herself too taken with the experience to question that statement at the moment.

But, that Barrow fellow had no problems with questioning anything and everything: "Surely not the ones that have bred in the wild?"

"Actually, they can't breed in the wild." Henry began to explain, managing to attract a lot of attention with _that_ remark. "Population control is one of our security precautions. There's no unauthorized breeding in Jurassic Park."

Dr. Barrow seemed curiously opposed to this. And though Anna had been intent on tuning the man out, she found herself listening in. "How do you know they can't breed?"

"Well, because all the animals in Jurassic Park are female. We've engineered them that way."

"Would you look at that?" Joseph finally got a peek at the little dear, bowled over by the sweet appearance, much to Barrow's irritation. It seemed Moseley's attention to the hatchling pushed the chaotician to continue with his little interrogation, the man becoming more on edge.

"But, again, how do you know they're all female? What, does somebody go out in the park and pull up the dinosaurs' skirts?"

Much as he'd deny it later, John had absolutely snorted at this –– and she herself couldn't help but be a little amused.

"We control their chromosomes, Dr. Barrow. It's not really all that difficult." Henry turned back to the crowd, "All vertebrate embryos are inherently female. They require an extra hormone given at the right developmental stage to make them male. We simply deny them that."

"Deny them that?" Dr. Hughes asked, now gaining a level of disbelief that would rival Dr. Barrow's. It looked as though the hatching could only pull her attention for so long; the woman was now staring right at the lab's head scientist.

"Cora, Robert," Now the chaotician sounded deeply worried. "The kind of control you're attempting here is just not possible. It's what evolution's taught us all this time: life will not be contained. Life breaks free, it expands to new territories and it crashes through barriers, painfully, maybe even dangerously." It sounded like he was now speaking more from personal experience and less from scientific fact. However, what had been running through his tone vanished before she could figure it out. "But, there it is."

"There it is," Robert calmly repeated, dismissing the opinion at once. Henry, on the other hand, was not so predisposed to ignore the chaotician –– if only to prove him wrong.

"You're implying that a group composed entirely of female animals will breed?" A few more snorts, naturally disguised as coughs, broke out.

Suffice it to say, the idea _was_ far-fetched when put like that.

"No," Thomas took a breath, trying to convey the seriousness of the matter. It was becoming more and more obvious that the man wasn't pleased with the trivial tone, that his patience was evaporating. "I'm simply saying that life finds a way."

It was at this point that Dr. Hughes became distracted by something about the dinosaur she was holding, the woman's eyes widening as a question told hold of her.

"What species is this?"

Anna froze at this, knowing that tone and never liking it. Dr. Carson, for that matter, looked just as worried at the sound, his eyes wandering back and forth between his colleague and the creature she still held –– trying to determine the enigma before him.

"It's a Velociraptor."

The whole team came to a horrified stop at this. Only days ago, Dr. Carson was lecturing that Larry boy on the dangers of dealing with Velociraptors and now these people were _breeding_ them?

"Elsie, put that down."

She needed no further provocation, carefully lowering the dinosaur back into the glass pen. Only after the action had been completed did Anna see a strange look cross over the woman's face as she glanced at Dr. Carson.

But, back to the matter at hand. Because, seriously, a Tyrannosaurus Rex was one thing. A shocking thing that also probably shouldn't exist, in all honesty. But a _raptor_ was another beast altogether.

One that she wasn't entirely upset to see extinct, if the scientist were to be entirely honest.

"You bred Raptors?"

Anna couldn't help but feel her worry increase as she looked over to Dr. Hughes. That same concerning tone came back; with it, the implications of some rather unpleasant conclusions...

_._

About ten minutes later and Joseph Moseley remembered why he was a vegetarian. Needless to say, cows and his stomach –– especially when Velicoraptors were around –– did not mix. That the group was still standing right next to the raptor cage, that he could hear the supposed "hunt" from where he stood, none of that helped.

"They should all be destroyed." A fierce looking woman approached them, dressed in a sort of a uniform, another similarly dressed worker trailing behind.

"Ah, allow me to introduce May Bird, Beryl Patmore." Mrs. Crawley was the one to officially greet the pair, explaining, "Our game wardens from Kenya."

"Bird here is a bit of an alarmist," Mr. Crawley tried to reassure them, the man having noticed trepidation grow at the woman's blunt statement. "But, of course, both wardens know more about our Raptors than anyone else."

"In the case," Dr. Carson interjected, managing to discreetly block Dr. Hughes from being closest to the raptor cage while he conversed with the two women. Or, at least, the paleobotanist thought it was subtle. Joseph, and quite possibly the doctor herself, saw right through the act. "What's their growth rate?"

"They're lethal at eight months," Bird warned as Patmore knowingly chimed in, "And she really does mean lethal."

Right. If they were going to act like twins and spew out these nauseating facts in-synchronicity with one another, he was done listening. He didn't need motion sickness from the rapid fire conversation.

However, just because Joseph didn't have a taste for the discussion didn't mean it would end: "Let me put it like this: I've hunted most things that can hunt you, but the way these move…"

"Fast for a biped?" Dr. Hughes asked.

Patmore's blunt response? "A cheetah's slow in comparison. Fifty, sixty miles per hour if they ever got out in the open."

"And they're astonishing jumpers,"

Right, he really needed to stop listening. Truly, his vegetarian instincts were outright demanding he shut out the rest of the world for the next few minutes. It was one thing to study these creatures, it was another thing to see how they managed to fend for themselves in the flesh.

_Oh–– that was a_ _**terrible** _ _choice of words._

"I think it's best not to look over there," Phyllis helpfully spoke up, unintentionally guiding his gaze toward something far easier to look at: her. And that in itself was the only thing keeping him from throwing up when what remained of that poor cow was pulled out of the cage.

"Yeah, when the big one looks at you, you can see she's working things out." Moseley desperately tried to ignore the ruthless statement, really not interested in this part of the park. Couldn't they go back to the Brachiosaurus? It may not be the Stegosaurus, but it, at least, shared his diet. "Deadliest one of the bunch, that one."

Of that, Joseph was sure.

What he was equally sure of was the fact that he _never_ wanted to encounter any Raptors for as long as he could.

_._

John Bates was not one to be chatty, especially after he had lost his appetite. And, yes, that little Raptor debacle with the cow had resulted in his losing his appetite.

So, when he was sat at a table surrounded by all of his colleagues as well as the others, having been told they now had to eat a meal after _that_ debacle, he was not amused.

"None of these attractions are ready yet, of course," Cora Crawley began to inform them, "But the park will open with the basic tour you're about to take, and then other rides will come online six or twelve months after that."

"Absolutely spectacular designs, we really spared no expense." Robert Crawley added, no doubt very pleased with himself.

"And we can charge anything we want." Jimmy, the lawyer that John did _not_ care for, incessantly babbled away. "£2,000, £10,000 a day, and people will pay it. And then there's the merchandise,"

"James," Cora spoke, the interjection clear: "This park was not built to cater only to the wealthy. Everyone in the world has the right to enjoy these animals."

"Sure. They will. We'll have a coupon day or something."

_A 'coupon day'? What, two percent off the main price?_

"Well, the lack of humility being displayed here is staggering," Clearly, Dr. Carson didn't want to be overheard –– not when he was speaking like that.

But, not only was his remark true, it was not nearly as quiet as it should have been.

"Yes, thank you for your concern, Dr. Carson." Jimmy spoke up again, "But things are a little different than what Dr. Barrow and I had feared."

"He's right."

John steeled himself to hear more of the chaotician's foolish statements. He'd heard about what happened on the helicopter, how the man had been flippant and crass. And though the conversation in that lab had shown more caution from Dr. Barrow than anyone had ever expected, Bates was still prepared to deliver a swift rebuttal on why this was all a terrible idea. Because, surely, the chaotician would be on the side of the lawyer he fancied.

"Everything's worse. _Much_ worse."

John Bates blinked at the declaration, not expecting to be on the same side as Dr. Barrow.

"Now, wait a second, we haven't even seen the park yet, let's not jump to any––"

"No, no, James," Robert interrupted, calmly eyeing the chaotician, "Let him talk."

"Robert's right." Cora echoed, her tone as easy-going as her husband's, "We want to hear every viewpoint."

Well, now. The stage was Thomas Barrow's.

This ought to be interesting.

"In that case," The chaotician looked to be wasting no time, "Don't you see the danger, Robert, Cora, inherent in what you're doing here? Genetic power's the most –– for lack of a better word, awesome –– force the planet's ever seen. But," The man faltered, more astonished by what he'd seen today than anything else. "But you wield it like a child that's stumbled across a gun!"

"Now, look here!" "Dr. Barrow, it's hardly appropriate to start hurling––"

"If I may," Barrow continued, garnering a little respect from John, oddly enough. The paleontologist couldn't tell if he could trust the man, unsure of where his character lay. But he certainly did appreciate the honesty being given to the others. That took something, especially in a room like this. "I'll tell you the problem with the scientific power you're using here:"

_And that is?_

"It didn't require any discipline to attain it."

The dark-haired man allowed the rebuke to gradually sift through the stilled air, intent on making sure every part of his message was understood. And when his words finally took to the space again, it was with a pointed exasperation, a regretful frustration: "You'd read what others had done, and you took the next step. You didn't earn the knowledge for yourselves, so you don't take any responsibility for it. You only stood on the shoulders of geniuses to accomplish something as fast as you could."

That might have been going too far. But before John could say anything to oppose the matter, Barrow was decidedly continuing, "And before you even knew what you had," He paused once again, disbelief ringing throughout the hush, "You patented it, and packaged it, and slapped it on a plastic lunch box, and–– and now you're selling it!"

"Now, Thomas," Cora spoke for her husband, the calm quality of her words fading. "I don't think you're giving us our due credit. Our scientists have done things which nobody has ever done before."

"Yes, but your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could they didn't stop to think about if they _should_."

Right. This argument was winning John over, his respect for the man increasing. _Not_ that he would say as such. Still, it was clear that his colleagues were in a similar boat –– even Dr. Carson looked to be conflicted about how much he agreed with the chaotician's lecture.

"Condors." It looked like Mr. Crawley was back in the conversation, determined to refute the pressing argument. "Condors are on the verge of extinction. If we were to create a flock of condors on this island, you wouldn't have _anything_ to say."

"But that's not what we're talking about, Robert! This isn't some species obliterated by deforestation or the building of a dam. Dinosaurs had their chance and nature selected them for extinction."

_Another fair point, even if there's flaws._ But, why weren't they doing this with condors? Why dinosaurs instead?

John had been incredibly taken when he'd first caught sight of that Brachiosaurus, having never believed this reality would've been possible. But the longer he was sat in this supposed tennis match, the longer he found himself wondering all sorts of things.

"You know, I really don't understand this Luddite attitude." Robert spoke, shocked, disappointed even. "Especially from a scientist. I mean, how can we stand in the light of discovery and _not_ act?"

"What's so great about discovery?" Thomas sarcastically asked, "It's a violent, penetrative act, that scars what it explores. What you call discovery, I call the rape of the natural world."

"Is there really a need for such language at this table?" Dr. Carson tersely demanded, more than offended by Barrow's belligerent language.

Yes, well, he wasn't the only one.

"No, there isn't a need." Anna coldly brought up, her tone carrying enough frost to chastise Thomas without another word. Still, the man was too firm about this to apologize. "In fact, it detracts from your argument to use 'such language', Dr. Barrow. But the real question is: how can we know anything about an extinct ecosystem? And with that in mind, how can we ever believe that we can control it?"

"Anna's right." Dr. Hughes concurred before anyone could shut the blonde down, siding with her colleague and friend. "In fact, there's already proof of this: Dr. Carson, would you please share what you informed me of earlier?"

The man nodded, taking the lead: "Mr. Crawley, Mrs. Crawley, you have poisonous plants in this building. You most likely picked them because they look good. But these are aggressive living things that have no idea what century they're in and they'll defend themselves. Violently, if necessary."

Both the Crawleys looked a bit dismayed by this protestation, though there was a hint of retrospective regret about the flora. However, dismayed and upset they may have been, the married couple looked to be nowhere near changing their minds.

"Even so, Dr. Hughes, Dr. Carson, if there are two people who could appreciate the idea what we're trying to do," _It only figures that those with the money ignore those without title_ , John thought to himself. Crawley could have asked _any_ member of the team to side with him –– instead, choosing to focus on the two with an official doctorate.

Luckily, neither in question were interested in humouring the unspoken request.

_._

"As my team has implied," Dr. Hughes began to respond, maintaining a firm tone in spite of her cordiality. She herself had more concerns about the whole idea now that they were exploring all of the possibilities. "The world has changed so radically, and we're all running to catch up."

She paused, needing to make sure she had _everyone_ 's attention before she continued.

Well, maybe not Kent's, but at least everyone else's.

"I don't want to jump to any conclusions," _Except, I feel forced to in this instance,_ "However, I have to note: dinosaurs and humanity –– two species separated by sixty-five million years of evolution –– have suddenly been thrown back into the mix together. Do you not suppose that, after all this time, we've no real idea as to what to expect?"

Dr. Carson nodded in decisive approval as Robert continued to mutter, "I–– I don't believe it. You're meant to come here and defend us against these characters, and the only one I've got on my side is the _lawyer_."

"Yes, thank you ever so much, Mr. Crawley." Jimmy sarcastically stated, causing Elsie to shoot a glare in his direction. Truly, it was astonishing how much dislike she could accrue for someone, and so quickly.

But before any further arguments could continue, they were all distracted by a staff member approaching Mrs. Crawley, swiftly whispering something into her ear. Within seconds, she lit up at the furtive words, proceeding to excitedly inform them all that, "They're finally here!"

Just who _they_ were, exactly, was a mystery.

Nevertheless, judging from the woman's enthusiasm, Elsie could only suspect they would be finding out rather soon….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** Oh, the repeated attack of ellipses! What a time to be alive. Of course, on a more serious note: any guesses as to who we'll be meeting next? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Frye?
> 
> In any case, whether you've got a guess or not, I hope you enjoyed this and have a nice day! See you in 2-3 days!


	5. A Clawing Request

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** Time to meet some precious guests and start the real adventure! Also, once again, _**we're taking liberties**_ today.
> 
> **Timeline Disclaimer:** I do know that the original _Jurassic Park_ takes place in the 90s. However, for simplicity's sake, this story will take place in present-day time.

Of all the possible individuals to come across, Charles Carson had not anticipated these five being the distinguished guests of the hour:

"Mama! Papa!" "Mrs. Crawley! Mr. Crawley!"

Three young ladies, probably eight to twelve years in age if he had to guess, were accompanied by two boys, both looking to be around the same age themselves. All five ascended the stairs to the adults, all carrying varying degrees of excitement when it came to being here. He could only watch on as a certain fondness took over Dr. Hughes, Anna, Phyllis, John, and Joseph while he and Barrow looked more than a little hesitant for the new companions.

Needless to say, this was going to be an even longer day than he anticipated, if children were truly to be involved.

"Now, girls, Matthew, Tom, " Mrs. Crawley tried to reign in her daughters and their school friends with no success, all five too curious for their own good, "Come and wait away from the cars, please. That's not where we need to be, not yet."

If the vehicles that had taken them into the island were to be considered dramatic, these new ones were flamboyantly extravagant to say the least. Truly, Charles was beginning to comprehend the wealth of the Crawleys.

Problem was, he couldn't tell if these investments were the best use of said wealth.

"These will be your transports for the afternoon," Mr. Crawley stated, proud of himself when it came to the cars. There was no doubt about it: they were as fancy in design as they were eye-catching. And Charles could almost guarantee that the procurement of these vehicles was yet another moment wherein the Crawly family "spared no expense".

Just where exactly did they get their wealth?

"No drivers?" Joseph asked, unintentionally opening a can of worms with his innocuous question. This may be 2020, but there was still something to be said for driverless vehicles.

"No, no drivers! They're electric and run on this track in the middle of the roadway here. Totally non-polluting, top of the line. We, of course, spared no expense."

Meanwhile, Charles could hear the chatter of one of the daughters all the way from the other side of the car, listening as she explained to one of the other children that the car contained an interactive tablet of some kind. He could only guess some sort of a touch screen was involved –– which meant he'd be better off not touching a single thing.

This was while her father called over the children and his wife, giving them all a quick goodbye before heading back into the building, apparently not joining them. The paleobotanist turned back at this, bewildered that the man wasn't coming along on the adventure.

But before he could say anything about it to his colleague, they were being interrupted.

"Are you Dr. Hughes?" He turned in delight to watch Els–– Dr. Hughes be recognized by the smallest of the three girls, the dark-haired and blue-eyed young lady. She looked to be over the moon by the older woman's appearance and was eagerly approaching them, the darker-haired boy by her side, "You are!"

"I am, indeed––"

"I've read all your books! Can we sit with you?"

"Of course you can," He knew his friend was stunned by the praise, the woman inadvertently smiling as she found herself being gently pulled towards the closest car. It was the sort of open smile she rarely shared with the world, and never intentionally. It was one of his favourites, one he treasured every chance he got to see it. "Of course, I ought to tell you: you'll be sharing a seat with Dr. Carson and me."

"Dr. Carson is here, too?" The girl whipped around to confirm this, catching sight of him as well and cheerfully waving at him. A peculiar sense of warmth flooded him at this, almost blocking out the next surprise: "I'd love that! I've read all his books, too!"

"Well, then. That settles it!"

Strangely enough, Charles found himself rather all right with this arrangement. More than all right, actually. Indeed, he was content to let the young girl –– Sybil Crawley, he would later find out –– guide him, Dr. Hughes, and her own friend towards the car she'd selected.

As for the other two Crawley sisters, they were more than happy to sort out their own arrangements. Mary Crawley, the eldest, insisted that Anna, John, and Matthew join her and her mother, defying the car's official seating capacity. Edith Crawley, on the other hand, managed to obtain a ride with Thomas, Jimmy, Moseley, and Phyllis.

"Do Dr. Carson and Dr. Hughes really think dinosaurs turned into birds and that's where they went?" Edith quietly asked Phyllis, who was more than happy to debate her colleagues' theories –– she'd definitely heard them enough to discuss the subject. "Because they don't look like birds to me."

Meanwhile, Mary was regaling her car companions about a theory she'd personally heard: that there had been a meteor that had made a big crater and _that's_ why the dinos. Anna looked on in mild interest, John only had eyes for Anna, Matthew was curiously listening in, and Cora looked to be satisfied with the general atmosphere of it all –– leaning back in her seat with a pleased smile.

If only they knew what was coming next.

_._

"Mr. Crawley, the storm appears to be about seventy-five miles west of us."

There was always an occasional moment in which Robert Crawley questioned the location of the park. Storms of this type were common here. And though an island made for easier containment when it came to the dinosaurs, he couldn't help but wonder what their park would be like elsewhere.

"What's the plan?" Robert glanced around the command center, taking relative comfort in the fact that this control center had some of the latest state-of-the-art technology. That, at least, was something in their favour.

"We'll keep an eye on it. It might swing south like the last one."

The patron nodded, thinking the situation over.

Not only was the storm west of them, they couldn't really afford to let this weekend go to waste over a few droplets. This was not only for his daughters' sake –– visiting here was something they'd all been looking forward to for months, never having the chance to before –– but also for his finance's sake.

Which meant they had to keep going.

"Ray, you might as well start the tour program."

The technician did as instructed, a series of video and images flickering onto the various screens throughout the room. The sounds of his three girls and their friends, as well as the others, came to life –– conversation freely flowing into the room.

It seemed to be that everyone was enjoying themselves, lightly discussing various subjects of all sorts as the tour began.

It ought to have reassured him, the easy-going nature of it all.

But Robert couldn't shake off the faintest feeling that this was something that required his complete attention.

_._

" _During most of your tour,"_ The automated voice of the vehicle droned on, " _Information will be automatically selected and displayed for you."_

However, Elsie Hughes was far more invested in watching the vehicles approach the official entrance to the park than hearing this self-explanatory information. What she had thought was the park was simply the outskirts. Now it was time to truly delve into Jurassic Park.

"Are we gonna hit that door?" Joseph bewilderedly asked the others in his car, being the person in the vehicle nearest to the entrance. Phyllis glanced at him, understanding where he was coming from but equally certain it would all work out.

"It'll be all right, Joseph," And when it proved to be as such, when the gates began to open just in time, she only smiled reassuringly at his surprise.

" _Welcome to Jurassic Park."_

The entrancing gates opened wide, silencing any conversation in their vehicle. In fact, almost all the vehicles were filled with only an admiring hush. That is, all the cars were quiet except for the one containing a snarky chaotician: "What've they got in there, King Kong?"

But Barrow's attitude mattered little: everyone else was captivated by the world they were now getting a chance to see.

" _If you look to the right, you'll see a herd of the first dinosaurs on our tour called Dilophosaurus."_ This got everyone's attention, " _One of the earliest dinosaurs, we now know Dilophosaurus is actually poisonous, spitting its venom at its prey, causing blindness and paralysis, allowing the carnivore to eat at its leisure."_

Certainly not the most reassuring of descriptions, but Elsie hardly minded. As it stood, she was bent on getting a good glimpse at the dinosaur, unintentionally leaning into Dr. Carson as she craned her neck to investigate the area.

" _This makes the Dilophosaurus a beautiful but deadly addition to Jurassic Park._ " No doubt about any of that, what with this newfound information. However, since there was no sighting of the dinosaur, the groups couldn't help but begin to feel disappointed over the matter.

"Do you see the Dilophosaurus, Dr. Hughes?"

"Not yet." The scientist tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice, "How about you, Sybil? Tom?"

"Nope." "No, Dr. Hughes."

Well, so much for that. Perhaps when Dr. Barrow had spoken of the unpredictability that came with an idea like _Jurassic Park_ , he'd been wrong. Or, rather, he'd been right about the concept of unpredictability, he'd just been wrong about _how_ the park would be unpredictable.

Of course, she doubted that greatly. While the idea of this amusement park intrigued her to no end, suppositions of all kinds had crossed Elsie's mind ever since that discussion.

And not all of them pleasant.

_._

"So, with 151 glitch items," Ray started to curtly intone, "We have all the problems of a major theme park and a major zoo, and the computers aren't even on their feet yet."

So much for state-of-the-art technology being in their favour.

This did not make Robert Crawley happy.

In fact, it made Robert Crawley everything _but_ happy.

"O'Brien," He looked toward the computer technician with more than an inkling of disgust. His wife may enjoy the woman's presence in the park, but she was the only one who did. He, on the other hand, had always found Sarah O'Brien to be a person he didn't care for. "Our lives are in your hands and you seem to have butterfingers!"

The woman took his response in with a sense of indifference, even though she remained vaguely professional. "Mr. Crawley, I don't think you understand what, exactly, my hands have provided. You can run this park from this room with minimal staff for up to three days now. Do you believe that sort of automation is easy? Or _inexpensive_ , for that matter?"

Mentioning money had been a slip on her part, a pointed crack in her indifference.

Her employer barely noticed.

In her mind, that only proved how inept the man truly was.

And seeing as how he looked poised to retort something dismissively stupid, she let her hackles raise –– defending herself before she was officially provoked. "Mr. Crawley, do you know anyone who can network eight machines and de-bug two million lines of code on my salary? If so, I'd really like to meet them."

So much for maintaining a collected bearing until after the escape.

Robert scowled, wondering why Cora liked the woman. O'Brien had never been cordial, not to him. And though her computer skills were somewhat impressive, manners and morals were what tended to win him over.

Both of which she seemed to be lacking in.

"I am terribly sorry about your financial problems, O'Brien, I really am. But they are _your_ problems." He himself wasn't always the best with money, as this last year had been proving. However, that did not mean he carried sympathy toward the technician.

"Oh, I see." _Everything's, of course, my problem._

The unspoken criticism flashed in her eyes, irritation beginning to spark within her. Belatedly, the technician wished his wife were here instead; they, at the very least, were on good speaking terms. When it came to Robert Crawley, however, there wasn't an end to the hostile tones and acerbic quips. Nothing had to be said for messages to be conveyed, typically resulting in terse arguments where little was spoken but much was revealed.

Add in the fact that this weekend meant everything to the Crawleys and Sarah O'Brien should've known better than to say anything at all –– not if she wanted to keep her intentions out of sight.

However, before intentions of any kind could continue festering into something worse, there was an interruption saving the conversation before it exploded.

That's where the fortune ran out, however.

"Sarah," Ray called from his station, "The headlights need debugging."

"Sure, I'll debug them in a little while –– it'll eat more computer cycles than you'd want at the moment." She paused, focusing on the task at hand. If she did anything suspicious, anything at all, it could result in the game being over long before it began. "There's also a finite amount of memory, I might add, and I shouldn't have to remind you that you can't use it for everything. Really, I must ask: are you––"

"Quiet! All of you," Bird silenced them all from her station, having been stonily watching the monitors from the very start. "They're reaching the Tyrannosaurus paddock."

_._

Charles had _never_ experienced adrenaline quite like this before. Having been informed by the automated voice that they were approaching the Tyrannosaurus paddock, he immediately craned his neck in search of any sign of the creature. When it became clear the dinosaur was not in sight, there was only one thing left to do:

Discreetly ascertain the conditions of the others and make sure they were all right.

The paleobotanist glanced back down their little rows of vehicles, observing the other children enthusiastically look out their windows, most of his colleagues matching their level of interest. Turning back to his own vehicle, the man didn't have to look to know Dr. Hughes was worrying her lip away, concernedly looking over towards the paddock –– curiosity battling concern. That Sybil and Tom were just as conflicted, nervous grins were peering out of an excited air, only proved how necessary it was to remain calm.

Of course, there was a difference between remaining calm and trying to protect others. And when he realized his hand had had a mind of its own, having instinctively reached out as though he could really shield his colleague from a Tyrannosaurus Rex, the man could only sheepishly try to retract it and–– and watch as she put a stop to his embarrassment.

The balm that was her hand clasping his was indescribable, an ardent solace he never wanted to let go of. That _she_ had been the one to take hold of him only added to the inordinate delight he now felt.

"Dr. Carson," His breath stilled, but then stopped altogether at the sound of, "Charles,"

The man bewilderedly stared at her, brown eyes heightened by confusion. What was running through her mind? What was his colleague about to say? Why was she talking to him like _that_?

"Dr. Hughes, Dr. Carson, I think I saw it! The T-Rex!"

" _Tom!_ That's a _goat!_ "

Hands were dropped like hot coals, the emotion in her eyes having since vanished.

"Oh. It really is, isn't it?"

So much for that.

_._

A chaotician sequestered on an island filled with dinosaurs was bad enough. A chaotician sequestered on an island filled with dinosaurs _and_ currently ensconced in a vehicle surrounded by a captivate audience was something else altogether.

"So, 'God'," The inflection alone informed the others of his opinion on that belief system. "Creates dinosaurs. 'God' destroys dinosaurs. 'God' creates man. Man destroys 'God'. Man creates dinosaurs…"

"Dinosaurs eat man." Phyllis began to calmly conclude the story, interjecting rather smoothly, "Woman inherits the earth."

Joseph chuckled, Thomas fixed her with a stare, and Edith shyly smiled –– not really sure what was going on but enjoying the idea of women getting to be the bosses of the world.

"I was going to say 'Aliens come back to take over the Earth'," Dr. Barrow informed her, "But I suppose that works, too."

_._

The dilophosaurus had been something in itself. Yet when a goat of some kind appeared in this particular paddock, that was when Anna began to feel properly disillusioned. She felt that, much as Cora and Robert obviously wanted to demonstrate otherwise, this park was not living up to reality.

But, once again, was that entirely a bad thing?

"T-Rex doesn't want to be _fed_." John shook his head at this, "He wants to hunt."

She nodded at the statement, fully aware that Cora Crawley could hear them, seeing as she was in the same car: "You can't just suppress sixty-five million years of gut instinct."

Honestly, whether the patron could hear them or not, it was all true.

"Yes, well, I heard this theory..." Mary Crawley began to speak once again, unfazed by the lack of action.

_I'm sure you have._

_._

After half a minute of further disappointment, Thomas had the nerve to ask the security camera located within the vehicle, "You do eventually plan on having dinosaurs on your _dinosaur tour,_ right?"

Reasonably assured that that would anger at least Mr. Crawley, if not whoever else was working with him, the chaotician continued to turn to Jimmy, "See, the tyrannosaur doesn't obey and set patterns or park schedules. No, the T-Rex understands the essence of chaos. It _is_ the essence of chaos."

"I'm afraid I'm still not clear on chaos, Dr. Barrow," Phyllis asked, a little fascinated. Maybe it was the fact that Dr. Carson expressly told them all they were not to ask about the subject. Maybe it was only to garner the threads of the chaotician's character, to understand why he acted the way he did.

Either way, she wasn't opposed to an elaboration.

Edith, too, nodded alongside the older woman, not having a clue as to what the chaotician was talking about. However, she knew Mary was never a fan of anything uncontrollable –– which was what chaos sounded like.

So, any chance to learn about something her sister didn't like was a chance she would gladly take.

Joseph, however, didn't care for Barrow and his chaos theory one bit. He didn't like the idea of havoc, and he didn't have any fondness for disarray. Really, he preferred life to be straightforward and simple, as it should be.

Thomas Barrow, naturally, was quite the opposite.

"Chaos simply deals with unpredictability in complex systems. The shorthand is the Butterfly Effect." No sign of recognition gleamed in anyone's eyes, much to the speaker's confusion. "You know, a butterfly can flap its wings in Peking and in Leicester Square you'd get rain instead of sunshine."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, shifting in his seat a little and garnering Barrow's attention. And, yes, even Moseley was glancing over, even if the man was still pretending he wasn't interested.

"Was I going too fast?" Giving them no time to respond, he only offered them a smile, a playful scheme concocting itself in his mind. "Here, give me that glass of water and we'll conduct an experiment –– if I may borrow your hand, Mr. Kent."

Thomas then proceeded to spend the next five minutes blatantly flirting with Jimmy via science as he explained chaos theory at its finest.

"... So, in short, those variations never repeat and thus create,"

"Unpredictability," Phyllis concluded, watching as Kent seemed taken with the experiment that had just occurred. That was something she wouldn't have predicted –– the man having struck her as firmly uninterested in Dr. Barrow.

Still, people could change.

_Or, at least,_ she thought to herself, glancing at Joseph, _one can hope people can change._ But even though that was the theory, she sometimes wondered if that was reality.

Maybe she ought to try and confirm Dr. Barrow's theory, using Joseph's hand for her demonstration….

"For example," Thomas looked up, something in the distance catching his eyes, "Nobody could have predicted that Dr. Hughes would suddenly jump out of a moving vehicle –– _and_ with Dr. Carson following!"

Everyone in the car immediately looked in the direction of the two scientists in question, curiosity rapidly springing up inside the car.

"What do you suppose that's about?" "Are they allowed to do that?"

But Thomas was only shaking his head, faintly smirking and quietly muttering to himself, recalling a previous conversation, "I _knew_ that at least Carson was familiar with attraction."

_._

"Stop the program," Bird rolled her eyes at Mr. Crawley's terse demand. It wasn't the wisest decision to stop the tour here, he of all people knew that.

"How many times have I told you," Really, she shouldn't have to be repeating herself like this, "We need locking mechanisms on the vehicle doors!"

Unbeknownst to May Bird, locking mechanisms were not the real issue.

By the end of this, locking mechanisms would be nowhere near the priority.

_._

"As I was informing your colleagues, Dr. Hughes," Somehow, Mary Crawly had incessantly tailed her and Dr. Carson out of the vehicle, much to Elsie's frustration. The eldest Crawley daughter had struck her as a spoiled child; better than Larry Grey, but not by much. "There's this other book by a gentleman named Bakker and he says that dinosaurs died from diseases."

It was only the fact that Dr. Carson appeared to be enjoying the eldest Crawley's attention that Elsie did not shoo the girl back toward her mother and her friend, Matthew. That and the fact that the girl served as a continual distraction from that peculiar moment back in the car.

Honestly, her mind had seemed to have thoughts of its own back in the car! Taking his hand, daring to speak like that, having no legitimate plan and still wanting to say something. Craving to reassure him that it was okay, even though she hadn't a real clue as to what exactly there was to reassure him of.

After all, whether or not a T-Rex eventually approached them, they would have been safe. The helicopter ride was long over. There were no pestering chaoticians trying to their best to stir up trouble. Truly, there was no reason for her acting the way she had, especially not when it very likely ruined everything.

Indeed, had she left it alone, had she done nothing, everything would have been fine. Seeing how flummoxed he'd been when she took hold of her hand, how he'd stared at her as though she'd proposed they ought to take tea with a T-Rex, she could only confirm that the action scandalized him through and through. That, whatever he'd been close to saying once before –– when they were talking of children and his real opinion on the subject –– it had to have been something entirely unrelated to what was running through her mind these days.

"Where are we going?" Thank God for Edith Crawley. The young girl appeared out of thin air, Cora Crawley not far behind. It seemed everyone was following the scientists, determined to take part in whatever discovery the two had made.

"Anyone else think we shouldn't be out here?" Kent inquired loudly from the back as everyone other than Cora proceeded to ignore him.

"I do agree with James that––"

" _Whoa_."

Elsie came to a halt herself before commanding, "Everyone stay here."

And, everyone did.

Everyone except for Dr. Carson, that is.

Moving forth, the paleontologist gasped at the sight of her personal favorite dinosaur, the famous triceratops, as it came into view at last. Decades of studying the creature, years spent admiring any fossil they found and reading all the material possible on the ancient being, it all paled in comparison to seeing the dinosaur _alive_.

"Don't be scared," Evidently, the others had disobeyed her instruction to remain still, having joined her at once. But, really, she couldn't be upset with their movement: she probably wouldn't have been able to remain still if someone else had requested it. "Everything's fine."

The worker who'd been watching over the dinosaur nodded at this, "I tranquilized her myself––"

"She's sick," Anna realized with a bit of horror, disheartened to see such a beautiful creature tormented. Elsie agreed, uneasy about the matter. The fact that her favourite dinosaur was right before her was a miracle in itself; that the poor dear was suffering had tinged any wonderment with discomfort.

"Dr. Hughes?" Dr. Carson sounded a little concerned, quite possibly thinking her insane for having been so risqué only minutes ago and now fiercely concerned about this. No doubt she had to explain herself at once, at least about this.

"She's always been my favorite, Dr. Carson. And now I see she's the most beautiful thing I've ever had the pleasure of seeing." Elsie had never told anyone that before, not even him. But not only was it true, she also felt she could share this with him. That faith she had may have stumbled a moment within these last ten minutes, but that didn't mean she'd lost it altogether.

Even if she suspected said faith was trivial by this point.

Unbeknownst to her, Charles was hardly paying attention to the creature. Ever since she'd backed off in the car, the man had tried his best to observe her from a detached perspective, wanting to understand what just transpired. And though he remained confused, the fact that she was so enamoured with the Triceratops –– letting her love for the dinosaur be on display for the whole world to see –– firmly put a stop to any prior bemusement.

He'd never seen her like this, not even in the middle of a dig. It was honestly enthralling, distracting to an improbable degree. And it was only the fact that she was worrying her bottom lip so much, a lip he'd unintentionally been studying for the last quarter of a minute, that his mind took yet another step back from everything and realized he could make a difference.

It was time to put his specialization in paleontology to good use.

"Microvesicles," Charles noted the detail to himself, putting his attention back on the triceratops before turning back to the nearby worker. "What are her symptoms?"

The woman, one Gwen Dawson, curtly informed him, "Low imbalance, disorientation, laboured breathing. It seems to happen every six weeks or so."

"Six weeks," He repeated, continuing to investigate and fully intending to ignore Dr. Hughes as she watched his investigation. If he focused on her now, he would give all his feelings away. And where would that lead them? Down the path of further uncertainty, of more withdrawing from one another?

Furthermore, how would any of that dizzying unknown help this poor creature?

So, no, he wasn't going to concentrate on her.

He would merely put all of his attention into solving this mystery.

Soon enough, it became clear that the local plant life was the root of this issue, absolutely no pun intended. And after a brief scanning of the area, it seemed the West Indian Lilac was the culprit.

However, there was really only one way to be certain, much to his chagrin.

"Unfortunately, the only way to be sure of the matter is to investigate the dinosaurs––" Charles paused, searching for an appropriate word. This really was still one of the few parts of his field he had no particular fondness for, "Droppings."

Dr. Hughes looked up, her lips trying their best not to twitch in amusement and failing miserably.

_._

"That storm center hasn't dissipated or changed course," Beryl Patmore delivered the vexing news with a mostly impartial tone. As it was, she thought them idiotic for arranging this tour when a storm had clearly been on the horizon for days now. But, she wouldn't challenge any of them about this. She would only point out the best solution when it was time.

And, obviously, it was time to point that out.

"We're gonna have to cut the tour short." Bird beat her to the punch, "Perhaps we'll pick it up again tomorrow."

However, both women knew the likelihood of that was slim.

"Are you sure we have to?" Robert asked, looked decidedly put out. His concern had grown steadily as the storm drew closer, but he really did want this to be a success.

"It's not worth taking the chance," Ray informed him, not backing down even as he began to make one final announcement. "Ladies and gentlemen, the last shuttle leaving for the docks leaves in five minutes. Drop what you're doing and leave _now_."

Once the announcement had been made, the technician turned back to the others, explaining, "I've found a way to re-route through the program, so I'll be turning the cars around and getting them in the rest area loop."

"Of course." His employer conceded, "But, when they return, would you be so kind as to get my daughters on the radio? They needn't worry about a bit of water."

_._

"Dr. Carson, perhaps I should be the one––" Joseph hesitantly faltered in his request, though the intended message looked to have gotten across: that he wanted to make this all a little easier.

"Perhaps we should work together." Needless to say, their combined forces would help to make the disgustingly necessary task a little more bearable. Further discussion between the two, as well as digging into the excrement, did eventually reveal that the lilac was not to blame for this issue.

But, what exactly was the cause?

_._

"He's tenacious," Cora remarked to Dr. Hughes, not fully convinced she would have ever done the same for Robert. It hadn't escaped the American's notice that Dr. Carson had only been stirred to action when it was clear Dr. Hughes was distressed, something Cora found to be endearing. That the Scottish woman looked to be taken with the actions before them, her eyes never leaving her colleague, only confirmed the patron's initial theories.

Naturally, Cora was far too professional to admit anything of the sort. It was none of her business to interfere. Nevertheless, she did have half a mind to question the woman about her feelings for the man –– if only to see if there was really something to interfere with, after all.

"They both are, Mrs. Crawley." Dr. Hughes informed the woman, obviously distracted. But what it was that distracted her, the American would probably never know.

"You will remember to wash your hands before you eat anything?" Cora asked in the general vicinity of the two men, only partially joking.

_._

For all of her issues, O'Brien was one excellent computer technician. With fingers flying faster than a master pianist, she had practically every aspect of code working in her favor. Oh, it would be a treat when they all discovered what she'd done. If only she could witness it firsthand!

Truly, that she hadn't already done this weeks ago was a miracle. It was probably thanks to Cora Crawley –– the peculiar American kind enough to disarm Sarah's typical hostility. But, none of that mattered in the end. Neither Crawley appreciated her to the extent she deserved, the husband was a dunce who thought he could do anything he pleased, and the pathetic salary only ensured a bitter revenge.

But enough of that. Next, of course, would be to call up her contact at the docks, to ensure that she had a safe departure. Because no storm would be getting in the way of what she needed to do today, make no mistake of that!

_._

Thunder rumbled overhead, causing Jimmy to panic. Thunder meant storms meant ruined outfits, a concept he had no interest in. It also meant being sopping wet around dinosaurs, and who knew what that would do to the beasts. He wasn't one of those scientists, he didn't have a clue what water would do to this mess. He might even end up as their dinner if he wasn't careful.

Which meant they had to leave as soon as possible: "Doctors, if you please, I have to insist that we get moving."

Elsie looked up at the request, having forgotten all about the impending storm. Personally, she was always a fan of the rain, finding it to be comforting more than anything. Scotland had no shortage of blusters and torrents, though they were typically not this tropical. "My, my, a storm's just what we need."

"Indeed." Well, at least her colleague was talking to her. That was something.

Still, she wasn't in the mood to handle a disappointed Charles Carson. Which he would no doubt become the minute they were back in the car. And if not there, when they were back in the compound or back in the Badlands, when they returned from this disappointing trip. The common theme, in the end, would be that the man would show himself disappointed in her actions, unapologetically insisting she remember they were colleagues, nothing more.

Why else would his hand had been so stilled, so frozen in her grasp? What other possible explanation could there be for the outright disbelief that had been strewn across his face?

"I really think I ought to stay and make sure the Trike is all right." It was a terrible excuse, she could fully admit that. But before Dr. Carson could voice his evident disapproval, she continued, "Joseph can stay with me, make sure the investigation is truly over."

Charles wasn't convinced this was a wise decision, not with this storm and all these dinosaurs prowling about. At least in those ghastly vehicles, she should be safe. And, really, he only wanted to understand what was going on. Why take his hand and talk like that if they were only friends?

Did that imply, as he wanted it to, that she felt _more_ for him than mere friendship?

"Actually, Dr. Hughes," It was a low murmur, his first whisper today that'd reached her and only her, "I still have unanswered questions,"

"If I'm not mistaken," Elsie didn't know what questions he was referring to –– questions about her, about the Triceratops, about the park even. Frankly, she would need more time before she could privately talk to him about anything. And, yes, it was cowardly to act like this, but she didn't see an alternative. "Joseph is as qualified as you are in this matter, Dr. Carson. Besides, surely there's no time for anything with a storm on the way."

_Please, don't do this._

_Don't shut me out now._

"Dr. Hughes?" Sybil and Tom had snuck over to them, having escaped Cora's careful attention. "Can we go back now?"

Perhaps, on one hand, it was fortuitous that the two children interrupted them. Maybe it was a sign that they weren't supposed to talk about anything right now, that they needed some time alone to think.

Charles didn't really believe that.

Personally, he was on the side of the other hand: that such an interruption was frustrating, that it was ruining the chance for an honest conversation away from the world. That it would only lead to walls being put up and more withdrawn conversations that never led to the truth.

The problem was, it didn't matter what he thought, not now.

For she was already responding.

"You can certainly go back now, Sybil, Tom, but I want to stay behind––"

The children seemed rather against the idea of going back unaccompanied, "But, can't you come with us?" "You know so much more than Mama or even Mary, and––" The dark-haired girl leaned in closer, conspiratorially admitting, "Tom's afraid of storms. It'd really help if you were with us."

Elsie didn't know if she was capable of helping anyone, not now.

But if she had to choose between this? Between helping a child battle his fear of storms versus carrying on with a conversation that would no doubt end her oldest and dearest friendship?

"Well," Charles inwardly sighed at her tone, knowing what would come next. "I suppose I can always radio in with Gwen, find out how the Trike's doing when we get back."

"Are you sure, Dr. Hughes?" "Thank you, Dr. Hughes!"

Right. He couldn't explain it, but he felt that leaving her on this note would only destroy whatever had happened in the car.

Yet the man knew, just from her words alone, that she wanted to be left alone. That he had to respect that wish, to the best of his ability.

"Why would I say something I wasn't sure of?" It was a tease that held something more, the rest of her statement spilling out onto the grass for anyone to hear, "Or do something I didn't want to?"

Charles paused, wordlessly repeating those words in his mind, having heard something unusual in them. Something that felt like a secret, something that sounded as though she weren't talking to anyone but him.

Before he had a chance to ponder anything else, the excited squeals of Sybil Crawley and Tom Branson overtook everyone and everything in the vicinity –– the children incredibly rambunctious in their delight as they began to quickly usher his colleague back to the cars.

"Dr. Hughes!" The man did want to give her time to be alone and to think, of course. But that statement of hers, it'd given him hope. Given him a chance to believe that she didn't actually regret any part of whatever had happened in the car, that she only needed time alone before they could talk about it.

"I'll be just a moment, Sybil, Tom."

It was with a shudder of relief that Charles methodically stripped off his now irrelevant plastic gloves and deposited them safely out of the way –– making sure to keep in mind old protocols. The plan now coming to mind was impulsive, foolish even, and yet he had every intention of following through.

"Yes, Dr. Carson?" His colleague spoke carefully when she finally came back, maintaining a professional tone that only pained him.

"I'll be staying with Joseph to ensure that the Triceratops is taken care of," The paleobotanist informed her, doing his best to sound as neutral as he could before this next part. "But, I have one request to ask."

"And that is?"

"Dr. Hughes, you are more than welcome to refuse this, but," She gave him a look at this, that eyebrow arching yet again. The man might've once taken that as a sign to put a stop to any request, but the sight only warmed his heart. It meant he really could reach her, that she hadn't shut him out after all. "But would you be so kind as to close your eyes?"

The eyebrow remained arched, the woman ruminating over the question with a sense of poise he couldn't possibly to hope to replicate. When she finally relaxed, curious eyes softly closing as the eyebrow lowered, Charles found he could breathe again. And though he had a limited amount of time on his hands, he took these precious heartbeats to commit this private moment to memory.

Whatever happened next, he at least had this.

After a few more stolen seconds, the man reached out to take hold of her hand, closing what little distance remained between them and hoping this would all work out.

"For good luck," Charles murmured, handing over his little treasure, the Raptor claw, into her palm before she could reject the token.

Elsie couldn't protest this, too stunned for words. The seconds that had led up to this gift had struck her as almost _romantic_ –– entirely the opposite of how he acted in the car _._ That he went down an entirely different route in the end, a route she now realized she didn't _want_ him to go down, was disorienting. That he had also bestowed her with his most prized possession was equally bewildering.

Now she really didn't know what to think.

Because the woman was shocked beyond belief, Sybil and Tom –– and now Cora, having been roped into this mission –– were able to take full advantage of her stupor and guide her back to the car before she could try to do anything else.

Unfortunately, that was when Charles realized that his request might've been the best moment to reveal his feelings, whether through conversation or something more. However, he didn't want to overwhelm her or force her to make a decision with little breathing space.

So, although he didn't care for the idea of separating –– especially since he couldn't guarantee her safety if they were separated –– he was all for putting her out of harm's way. And harm couldn't strike her if she was taken back to the compound. Of course, since even this couldn't guarantee her safety, he could at least give her his own good luck charm and prized possession: the claw.

That, and ensure someone kept an eye on her.

"Anna," Charles called his colleague over at once, thankful she had stuck around, "I'm putting you in charge of the other vehicles and––" Realizing he hadn't thought this through, he trailed off, busying himself by keeping a sharp gaze on Dr. Hughes as she finally made it back to the cars.

"And making sure there's no heroics today?" Anna quietly suggested, a small smile playing with her lips. Unbeknownst to him, she had observed the whole interaction with the claw.

He nodded, relieved that the woman understood the matter at hand.

"I promise," The blonde began to speak, an assured tone carrying her words through the space, "There'll be no heroics, Dr. Carson. Not if I can help it."

He nodded, "Good. Make sure to stay safe, all right?"

Her smile widened, encompassing her face, trust inherent in every line, "Of course. Wouldn't dream of anything else."

_Right._ Then there was nothing else left to do other than to let Anna get back to keeping her promises.

Though, he did have to remind Joseph he was to remain behind to help –– a task that would no doubt prove to be rather interesting to complete.

_._

" _There's nothing I can do."_ Sarah O'Brien was angered by these tinny, stupid words, infuriated that she was being forced into acting at an impossible speed. The people paying her were already requesting the world of her, how dare they think they could make her perform even more miracles for them? " _The captain says we gotta go, we gotta go."_

"You've got to give me more time," She hissed into her headset, "I did a test run, it took me twenty minutes. I think I can push it to eighteen but you've got to give me at least fifteen minutes."

" _No promises!"_

_._

"Is there room for one more?"

Anna turned at the sound of her husband standing outside the car, beaming at the sight of him and inwardly berating herself for having forgot to bring him along in the first place, "I think we've enough space, don't you?"

The blonde had managed to sneak into the car containing Dr. Hughes only minutes ago. This was the best way to ensure the woman's safety, not that Anna truly believed it necessary. Still, with _live_ dinosaurs being thrown into the mix, nothing was a guarantee.

"We certainly do!" "We do, we do!" "I'll sit on Mama's lap –– please, come in!"

Without another word, Anna watched as Sybil eagerly hopped over toward the shotgun seat, her mother happily making room. The blonde could only conclude that, when children were willing to make things work, they were willing to make things work.

_If only adults could be that persistent,_ she thought to herself, observing Dr. Hughes even as John took a place in the back, his presence a priceless comfort. Anna didn't know exactly what had happened, only that something did. That the woman was quietly sat where the driver would normally be –– the task made redundant due to the automated system –– she could only guess what had happened.

Though, seeing as how the Scot was unusually taciturn, it had to have been _quite_ the conversation.

_._

"Mary? Matthew?" Charles concernedly spoke as he realized they had two little stowaways in their vehicle, having only made it to the gas-powered Jeep when it was confirmed he and Moseley had done all they could for the Triceratops, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, Dr. Carson," This would be an interesting explanation, no doubt. But, as Mary undoubtedly knew, it was far too late to send the children back to the others.

Something Charles was beginning to suspect had been figured into the plan all along.

Well, at least he'd be taking the two youngsters straight back to the main compound where they'd be kept out of danger. That was preferable to bringing them further into any other danger. Something that might've happened had they settled for adventuring on their own.

Of course, this sort of thinking –– adventuring out on one's own –– only had him think of his colleague and their own adventures over the years.

He could only hope they'd still have these adventures after all of this, whatever _this_ was.

_._

"So much for our first tour," Robert murmured to himself, eyeing his cane made for this special occasion: at the top of the accessory was a spherical piece of amber, a mosquito resting in the dead center of it. More for show and less for need, he found the cane looked rather smart. Something he didn't feel in the slightest. "Two no-shows and one sick triceratops."

Ray looked at his boss, knowing the truth about today: "It could've been worse. A lot worse."

"Well, I'm going up to the machine," O'Brien piped up from her station. "Anyone want anything?"

Suffice to say, everyone was confused by the abnormally generous offer.

"Oh, and I was able to debug the phones." She smoothly continued, shoving aside any nerves over her upcoming mission, "And I wanted to tell you: the system will be compiling for eighteen to twenty minutes. Therefore, some of the minor systems might go on and off for a while. However, it's strictly routine. Nothing to worry about."

The technician then tapped a button on her screen, waited a moment, and proceeded to leave them. She had a feeling no one would take her up on the offer, pleased to have been proven correct.

As it stood now, it would only take her approximately sixteen minutes to complete her self-serving mission.

Twenty if any systems lagged.

_._

"So, Dr. Hughes, may I be so bold as to ask," _That_ brand of boldness, the type that came with that sort of tone, was never reassuring in the paleontologist's eyes, "Are you and Dr. Carson _only_ colleagues?"

Elsie was attempting not to stare out in the direction of the triceratops, wanting to remain as dignified as possible when answering. Seeing as how she herself was still processing what had happened, she wasn't exactly interested in this line of questioning. "That is correct, Mrs. Crawley."

"Really?" Sybil couldn't help but ask in confusion. The girl's curiosity caused Anna to smile to herself. Even Tom looked fascinated, though the boy was respectful enough to remain quiet on the matter.

The Scot, on the other hand, was oblivious to everyone's reaction. Distracted by the candor in Sybil's tone, she found herself trying to figure out where on earth this little interrogation was coming from. They couldn't have seen that exchange with the claw, could they have? And that little girl definitely hadn't noticed the moment in the car, she couldn't have.

"Really." The scientist repeated, now wondering if she should have tried to stay with her colleague instead of retreating like she had. As it stood, every time she thought of Dr. Carson, she found herself deeply confused. His actions were sending all sorts of signals. First, what could have only been disgust that she had dared to take his hand. Then, the moment with the claw and that look in his eyes as she found herself being pulled away –– a look that haunted her every step of the way, one that was decidedly _not_ disgusted.

But any thought of that was derailed by each vehicle coming to what could only have been an unplanned stop –– each car clumsily halting in its tracks.

"My, my." "What was that?" "Chaos at its finest." "Maybe it was a glitch?" "Dr. Hughes, do you know why we've stopped?" "Well, I don't think _that_ was intended." "Did I miss some sort of paddock?" "Oh, great." "But when do you think we'll start moving again?" "I really don't think that was supposed to have happen."

But, it was already far too late for the truth to make a difference….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh. So, yes we're going to have a bit of a cliffhanger and a mess of a situation for Chelsie, among other things…. But we will also have a consistent posting and that has to count for something?


	6. Eerie Yellow Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** So, I recently checked and it turns out we're about to wade through what has to be classified as M-Rated material (violence, graphic descriptions, strong language, the likes).
> 
> In other words: it's not a Tarantino film, but **I completely understand** and take no offense **if you need to skim a fair amount of this chapter.** If it helps, this is the most violent chapter. That's not to say there won't be more down the line, only that this should be the worst for graphic violence/descriptions/the likes.
> 
> Also if you find anyone to be out of character, just remember that these sorts of situations cause all sorts of reactions. People slip into harsher accents, some go into complete survival mode, etc.
> 
> **Warning:** Strong language, graphic descriptions, character death(s), and a whole lot of people panicking (rightfully so).
> 
> Enjoy!

It was a sense of gleeful exhilaration that had Sarah O'Brien careening toward the giant gates that would lead her to her escape. Oh, she would eventually have to brake the car, knowing that such speeds in this weather would inevitably result in a crash. And she would have to eventually stop to step out and properly fix her escape in regards to the technology. But, she'd spent a great deal of time tolerating her obtuse employers.

Now, with the wind howling in approval and fervent crystals falling from the skies, she would allow herself this. She would allow herself the sensation of whirling through this Godforsaken park, the rush of deviant knowledge and control flooding through her veins.

And when it was time for Sarah O'Brien to hop out of the car, intent on manipulating the control panel of the gate, she could only feel a sense of great vindication that she was finally getting what she deserved.

_._

"Mama," The cars had been stopped for a few minutes now, everyone's panic merging into something else. "I'm worried about Edith."

Cora nodded, knowing Sybil had a point: her second daughter wasn't the biggest fan of storms or being stuck in the dark. Considering that they were all having to endure both of those at the present moment, "Of course you are, darling,"

However, it looked like Sybil intended on doing much more than merely worry over the matter: "Then, can Tom and I go over, make sure she's all right?

"So long as you come back to the car the moment you can."

"Of course!"

The mother nodded, a little concerned herself –– not only because of what had happened with the cars, but also because she didn't like Edith being all by herself. Or, rather, she didn't like the idea of Edith being by herself with Dr. Barrow and James for company. She was sure Phyllis Baxter made some sort of a difference; it was only that she didn't have the same Dr. Hughes seemed to. "And make sure to be careful."

"You can count on us, Mrs. Crawley!" "Tom's right, Mama: we'll be really careful and will be back before you know it!"

Cora nodded once more, definitely not reassured but willing to put her concerns aside for her daughters.

"Mrs. Crawle–– Cora," The American turned to Dr. Hughes, "They'll be all right. Phyllis is perfectly capable of handling Dr. Barrow and Mr. Kent and will, no doubt, be taking care of Edith."

"I'm sure."

If only she could believe that.

_._

"What the hell?" Whatever was going on, the cause was far from obvious. And while Ray Arnold wasn't one to curse in front of his boss, he would make an exception in this case.

Luckily, his employer didn't particularly care about the language today.

"What now?" Robert Crawley curtly asked his employee, his ire latching onto a convenient target.

"Fences are failing, all over the park!" It wasn't too difficult to put two and two together, "'A few minor systems', she said!"

At this, Robert pointedly turned to Bird, firmly displeased about the situation: "Find O'Brien! Check the vending machines!"

However, it really didn't matter if they did find O'Brien. Her machinations had long since dug into underbelly of the park, slowly beginning to tear the technology to shreds, "Sir, the monitors are failing."

Worse still, every single video monitor in the control room was going out without even a hint of sound. The six of them remaining –– Patmore, Gwen, Ray, Robert, Dr. Carson, Mary, Matthew –– stiffened for a moment, understanding what that implied. It was at this point that the tension, the atmosphere inside the room, curled into something far past anxiety-provoking.

"Use O'Brien's terminal." Robert commanded Ray, refusing to believe this couldn't be fixed. "Get it all back online. She can debug the system later."

The man followed the command without question, knowing better than to voice the thought that O'Brien had left for good. And while Ray began to express his disgust over the state of Sarah's station, the area abnormally littered with rubbish and the likes, Patmore was realizing all the possible damage this would bring.

"The raptor fences aren't out, are they?"

The technician checked as soon as Beryl asked, relieved to confirm that they were still on. The paleobotanist froze at this possibility, unashamedly eavesdropping on this particular conversation, only feeling mildly consoled when he heard this.

To be perfectly honest, at the sound of the park's defenses continuing to fail, Charles Carson couldn't help but feel as though he made an irrevocable mistake.

"So, why on earth would O'Brien turn the other fences off?!"

Evidently, Robert Crawley was not pleased about these latest developments. Truthfully, not a single soul in the building complex was a fan of these latest developments –– everyone panicked and angered for their own personal reasons. Battling the weather was one thing; fighting against an ancient world they were terribly clueless about, in the grand scheme, that was an entire thing of its own.

"Dr. Carson," Something was different about Mr. Crawley's voice this time, something that was unsettling and quite possibly patronizing, "If you would be so kind as to take Mary and Matthew to another part of the building––"

"No, Papa!" "But, surely, Mary and I would be safer––" "I'm afraid I can't do that, Mr. Crawley."

Charles, Matthew, and Mary shared a look of surprise, having unintentionally spoken in unison. However, they made a pretty decent team: within seconds, the three silently decided the eldest daughter was to speak on their behalf, knowing that she had the best chance of winning this argument.

"Papa," The thirteen year old stood with the grace of a lady meant for the aristocracy. "How can you possibly think of sending Dr. Carson away whilst his colleagues remain in danger? And how can you possibly think of sending _me and_ Matthew away while Sybil and Mama –– and Edith, I suppose –– are also in as much danger, if not more? _And_ what if we fall into danger by leaving this room? Our safety's only guaranteed if we remain together."

The only scientist in the room firmly nodded along the young girl's statement, having no qualms about ignoring his patron's requests when lives were at stake. Besides, not only did they all have a right to know of what happened next, their safety was much more of a guarantee if they all remained together.

Or, at least, that's what Charles needed Mr. Crawley to believe.

He didn't really know where they would be safest; he only knew that he couldn't stand the idea of being boxed away without knowing what was going on. He would be crushed if there had been a chance to help Elsie, a chance to redeem himself for this ghastly error, and he'd been nowhere to be of assistance.

Realizing he had slipped, having called her Elsie instead of Dr. Hughes, Charles began to grasp just how intense this dismaying situation was growing.

This realization was to such an extent that the man almost missed Mr. Crawley's final verdict on the matter.

"Well, then," Robert huffed, frustrated by his daughter's words even if he could somewhat concede her points. "I suppose you'll have to stay."

"You suppose correctly." This coaxed a very faint smile from Charles, the words reminding him of his friend. Said smile was soon set aside in favor of recalling the dreadful fact that Elsie was still out there somewhere in this Godforsaken park.

And, yes, he was beginning to give up on decorum. By this point, that all seemed irrelevant.

_Why didn't I let her stay behind?_

_Why didn't I take her place?_

_Why didn't I insist we talk?_

These were questions he'd been asking himself the moment it all went pear-shaped. Questions that incessantly poked his initial faith in the situation, prodding away most of his hope for a decent conclusion.

Well, with each minute that passed, it only became clearer for the man:

The moment he saw Elsie Hughes again –– for he would be seeing her again, no matter what –– there'd be no more of this hesitation. He could respect any wishes she had, but he would not be bandying about the truth.

He couldn't do that, not any longer.

_._

Sarah O'Brien darkly chuckled herself at the sign in front of her, tickled by the supposed perils before her:

_DANGER! ELECTRIFIED FENCE!_

_This Door_ _**Cannot** _ _Be Opened_

_When Fence is Armed_

Like that'd ever stopped her before.

Within seconds, she reached out a hand to grab the fence by the wire itself, flipping a latch and shoving the door open.

_So much for an electrified fence._ Sarah sneered to herself as she ran back to her Jeep, putting it into the appropriate gear before she swerved it back onto the park road. By this point, what should've just been rain was now a full-on storm, the road churning into mud the longer water bled from the sky.

Now, here's where the real problem was. Shoving away her fear of storms, the weather made it damn impossible to see out the window. How was she to escape if it was this bloody difficult?

That impossibility is what she'll always blame the next part of her life on. After all, it was the weather's fault she wasn't able to see the fork in the road soon enough to brake again. It was absolutely the storm's fault she ended up flying her jeep into a signpost –– and none-too-gently, mind.

The woman flung a few choice words out into the air, hurrying to get out of the car and check the sign she'd inadvertently knocked over.

_To The Docks_

Problem was, she didn't know where the hell it was originally pointing.

Scowling once more, Sarah swung the arrow with all her might and walked away. Best of luck to the poor fools that'd encountered it, that's for sure.

Except, it felt as though this was the wrong decision: "Och, Sarah O'Brien! This is not who you are!"

She was many things –– a manipulator who enjoyed the finer things in life, a genius behind a computer screen, someone who carried sociopathic tendencies on occasion –– but this struck the woman as an action that was unacceptable. So, with a irate hiss, she adjusted the arrow back toward what was hopefully the correct direction: the left side of the fork.

Well, here was hoping she was right.

_._

"But _why_ have we come to a stop?"

Phyllis Baxter refused to sigh at the unending inquiries. And, yes, this was despite the fact that Jimmy Kent had asked the question now five times in three minutes. She really missed Joseph, having regretted not trying to join him with Dr. Carson. There probably wouldn't have been enough room, but even in her eyes she could see that was a terrible excuse to avoid spending more time in his company.

"I'm not exactly sure, Mr. Kent. But, I'm sure that emergency power will kick in soon." She wasn't really all that sure of that either. Still, with Edith and the other children in the car, she didn't think now was the best time to state her real opinion.

Though, really, the Crawley daughters and their friends were much more mature than the two supposed gentlemen in the vehicle.

"I'm sure you're right, Miss Baxter." Thomas conceded the point quietly, surprisingly cooperative. Her initial impression of him was that he had a fairly decent heart underneath the blatant flirtations and crass perspective on life. That had only been confirmed at their group meal when he elaborated on the dangers of such a concept as Jurassic Park. He could have been a little less vulgar with his language, but his principles ran parallel to hers.

Still, cooperative was not something she had necessarily been sure he was capable of.

Therefore, this attitude of his made for a pleasant surprise, all things considered.

_._

Ray Arnold was not an impatient man –– you really couldn't be impatient in this line of work, not if you wanted to get far. Still, the man was personally feeling taunted by the little technical "exercise" in front of him. Punching buttons like this task were a fight, feeling unusually pressed about the matter, he sensed he was onto something at last.

However, it wasn't meant to be.

_"I'm afraid you didn't say the magic word!"_

Ray froze in his seat, hardly daring to believe that she would stoop to this: "Please."

It was futile, talking to a cartoon animation of O'Brien. A GIF of smugness was before him, snidely looking at him from the computer screen. And, no matter how hard he tried, nothing would wipe that smirk off her face. "Goddamn it! I hate this hacker crap!"

"Language, Mr. Arnold," Mary murmured under her breath, knowing better than to say much more than that right now –– even if both her father and Dr. Carson would have approved of such a reprimand.

Stern reprimands aside, the young lady was not the only Crawley reacting to the situation. Her father was also not having any of this unnecessary nonsense: "Well, isn't this just _peachy_?"

"'Peachy'?" Patmore questioned, finding the word to be out of place, given the context. Even Matthew and Mary exchanged looks at this, confused.

Robert glowered at the inquiry, determined to remain in control and change the subject: "Right. We need to call O'Brien's people in Cambridge!"

Ray pushed himself and his chair across the floor, practically snatching the closest phone. He doggedly punched more buttons only to discover a chilling truth. "Phones are out, too. Signal's cut out across the whole park –– no texts, no calls, _nothing_."

"And just where did the vehicles stop?"

See, _that_ was a question the technician did not want to answer.

"Mr. Arnold?" Charles managed to ask, his stomach dropping at the lack of response. Having only glimpsed at some of the exhibits within the park, the scientist didn't dare to dream of what horrors his colleagues might've stopped at. "Mr. Arnold, would you please tell us where the vehicles stopped?"

Maybe it had been the word-choice that put the technician on edge. Maybe it was the tone that riled him up.

"Where else do you think?" Ray snapped back at him, the unspoken answer becoming more evident by the second. "They had to double-back in order to return, right?"

"That's right."

"You're the scientist. Figure it out for yourself."

_Right._

_Now it's time to panic._

_._

"Dr. Hughes?" Anna turned in her seat at Cora's voice –– one that was rising in concern, "Where are Mary and Matthew?"

"'Mary and Matthew', Mrs. Crawley?" It only took a few seconds for Anna's colleague to understand the dilemma at hand: Sybil and Tom had just left to join Edith in the other car, but a good long look informed the woman that Mary and Matthew were nowhere to be found.

_But, why would she be worried if Mary–– wait a minute,_ "Mrs. Crawley," The blonde broke the panic, confused. "Didn't Mary and Matthew get _your_ permission to stay with Dr. Carson and Joseph?"

"What?" Cora Crawley was no longer the calm and collected adventurer from before. She was now a mother who needed to know exactly what was going on. "What did you say?"

_Oh, no._ "Only that Mary told me they had permission to join Dr. Carson," Anna continued, more than a little frustrated by what was now being revealed as a trick. "I thought you knew."

"Well, _next time_ , Mrs. Bates," It was a cold tone that greeted the younger woman now. "You would do well to _confirm_ with me first."

John didn't really like Mrs. Crawley's tone, knowing that it was an honest mistake on Anna's part. Add in the fact that he found Mary Crawley to be a bit of a manipulative brat, undoubtedly being the one behind this little scheme, and he didn't see the problem with the eldest Crawley's absence. If she was with Dr. Carson and Moseley, she was probably safer than they were, stuck out here.

"At least we know she's safe." John spoke up, not interested in having Anna unnecessarily chastised. "The guide was taking them back to the compound in a gas-powered jeep. _And_ Dr. Carson is with her. He wouldn't let anything happen to her."

"There is that, Mrs. Crawley," Dr. Hughes reassuringly added, calming the woman down at least a bit.

They settled into a constricted quiet, intently listening to the rain as it continued to pour, not able to do much else. This, in combination with the distant bleating of a goat still waiting to be hunted by the Tyrannosaurus Rex, made for a disquieting discord of sounds –– an unsettling landscape of chilling noise.

Oh, and yes: as luck had it, they were stopped right along the side of a familiar paddock. John had recognized it the moment they came to a halt, inwardly perturbed that this was where they were stuck.

But at least the fences had to be working, keeping the T-Rex as far away as possible.

Nevertheless, the security those fences provided didn't stop everyone's panic. In fact, in what had to have been only seconds later, John found his own worry rising. It didn't help that he heard movement in the distance, that someone was running out of the car in front of them, heading towards their car.

The man stiffened, his body tensing as he tried to piece together what exactly was going on. Who would be running toward them? Was it only the rain that brought this person over or something much darker?

Less than half a minute later, a drenched Phyllis Baxter was opening the door and––

"Are my daughters okay, Miss Baxter? And Tom?" Mrs. Crawley aired her question before Phyllis could report on whatever it was that brought her here. Personally, John would've liked to have heard why she'd come bolting over in the first place, but he kept quiet.

"They're perfectly fine, Mrs. Crawley. Edith hasn't wanted to step out into the rain, so Sybil and Tom have offered to wait with her in the car instead. They'll be coming over soon."

The American released her panicked breath slowly, relieved to hear that that was the only reason behind the hold-up.

"Everything all right, Phyllis?" Dr. Hughes asked, taking advantage of the lull in conversation. She was relieved everyone seemed to be fine, but she really did prefer an official confirmation.

"Sort of." That didn't bode well. "Dr. Hughes, it looks like the radio is out on our end, so we wanted to check with yours."

A valid concern. But one that did manage to reignite a sense of worry for all who caught it.

"Our's been out for a while now," Anna informed her, outright frowning at the fact. "What should we do?"

"Right," Phyllis muttered to herself before addressing the others, "Kent said to stay put. What do you think, Dr. Hughes?"

"I'm inclined to agree for the moment," The woman replied, though she didn't look particularly happy about it. Staying still meant they were sheltered from the storm. However, it did not guarantee safety from any other creatures that may be lurking about. "But, if anything changes, get ready to move."

_._

_Please, Elsie,_ Yes: he'd thoroughly given up on calling her Dr. Hughes. He'd long since concluded it made no sense to do otherwise, not now. Besides, he'd known his feelings for her for quite some time now; hadn't he been heartbeats away from saying as such when this dreadful business began? And though he'd been so confused before, not understanding that last exchange of theirs, that confusion didn't matter any longer.

So, why couldn't he finally call her Elsie in his thoughts?

_Please, make it out safe and sound._

If there was one thing Charles Carson was learning today, it was that he was very unlikely to ever endorse Jurassic Park. In fact, he would be content sticking to his simple dig sites in Montana, of all places. Honestly, he would be beyond thrilled to be back in Montana. He would possibly move it from thirtieth of his list of favourite dig sites to fourth or fifth. He could even put up with the occasional school lecture –– even if it meant more atrocious Larry Greys.

But all of that would only be true so long as Elsie Hughes was by his side.

_._

When Phyllis had informed them all that the radio in the other car was out too, Thomas had refrained from letting his personal concerns take over. That wasn't to say his personal concerns weren't currently crawling into the darkest corners of his mind, determined to taunt him to death. Rather, that was only to say he was quite determined that the kids remained calm. And so he had to fiercely shovel back any disturbing thoughts as best as he could.

That was, of course, on top of the petrifying ones that had long since gripped his mind.

"You kids all right?" The chaotician quietly asked the three children from the front of the car, always carrying a soft spot for children.

As they all responded in the affirmative, he couldn't help but hear Jimmy's exasperated, "Why wouldn't they be okay?"

"They can get scared," Thomas said, with more than a little defensiveness in his tone. Earlier flirtations or not, this was a situation that was far more frightening than the chaotician could have imagined.

"What's there to be scared about?" But Jimmy didn't sound all that convincing. "It's just a little hiccup in the power."

"I didn't say _I_ was scared," He retorted, ignoring Baxter's look of bemusement as the children listened in on their little discussion.

"I didn't say you were scared." Jimmy shot back, ignoring Sybil as she managed to go from sitting squished in the front to hopping around and getting a little space in the back.

"I know."

Seriously, who were these two gentlemen trying to convince?

"Fine."

And though Jimmy was initially content to ignore the youngest Crawley sister rummaging about the car, he couldn't ignore her finding some heavy-duty safety goggles. "Oi! Where'd you find those?"

"In a box under my seat," Sybil innocently responded, carrying the air of a curious explorer.

"Are they heavy?" His patronizing tone already grasped the answer she'd yet to say. Truly, he was simply waiting for confirmation.

"A little."

_Bingo._ "Then they're expensive. Put them back."

After a few more minutes of investigating the goggles against Jimmy's request –– "Look, they have night-vision!" –– Edith was finally feeling relaxed enough to venture out into the night and run back to her mum and Dr. Hughes and the others.

Unfortunately, the poor dear wouldn't get the chance to realize she should have ventured out sooner.

_**Boom.** _

Sybil paused in her analysis of her newfound safety-goggles, looking up as something echoed across the land.

"Did you hear that?" She quietly asked Thomas and Phyllis, glancing back at Edith who still seemed unaware. Sybil then glanced back at a cup of water that Thomas had procured for himself. It was a small little plastic thing, average and unassuming, containing just enough water to––

_**BOOM.** _

Whatever was coming their way, the sound of heavy footfalls exploding into the night, it was getting closer.

And whatever it was, no one liked the sound of it.

"What's that?" Mr. Kent asked them, truly losing his nerve now. It'd only been his imagination before, his thoughts deviantly chugging away to scare him. Now there was quite possibly a monster skulking about, its presence illuminating his original fears were right.

"It might be the power trying to come back on."

Sybil was determined that, whatever it was, she would help everyone by being able to spot whatever was outside. Quickly turning around and climbing back into the back seat area, she brought the goggles back into play and scanned the area, Tom at-hand to help.

"What is that?" The sound of Edith's growing worry only forced the other children into further action, peering out into the unknown.

"What is what, Edith?" For once, Phyllis Baxter's soothing tones did nothing to alleviate the terror rising within the car.

The youngest Crawley sister craned her neck in the direction of the side window, noticing out of the corner of her eye that the goat –– the one set aside for the T-Rex –– was nowhere to be found. In fact, the tether that had held the animal in place was the only thing remaining….

_**BANG!** _

Edith couldn't help the scream that escaped her as something crashed into their Plexiglass sunroof, something that looked to be like goat bone. Thomas shielded the girl's eyes best as he could, Phyllis quickly reaching out to silence the terrified girl before they were discovered.

Sound would only kill them faster.

Tom couldn't keep himself from screaming as an enormous claw gripped what should've been a thoroughly electrified fence. The spine chilling convinced him to look up through the car's sunroof, past the abhorrent piece of bone that'd collided against the vehicle and toward the predator that lurked just out of sight. There could only be one dinosaur in the vicinity that was this aggressive, this deadly. And, as terrified as he was, Tom needed to confirm that-––

The Tyrannosaurus Rex was already mercilessly swallowing the rest of the goat whole, devouring everything possible in one foul swoop. It stood at an impossible height, being around forty-five feet long from snout to tail. And its gargantuan head was far larger than Tom himself –– looking to be able to devour anything and everyone that crossed its path.

It was a thing of fatal power.

Naturally, Jimmy Kent took this as his cue to escape.

There was absolutely no way in hell he'd be left to handle this –– not on top of everything else.

The man savagely ripped the door handle closest to him open. Slamming it open as though it was worth its weight in gold, he didn't bother to steal a look at anyone or take the time to regret his actions. Why the hell would he?

No, there was only one action left to him.

_._

_He left us._ Edith gaped in horror, revulsion churning away in her stomach, blood pounding endlessly in her ears, paling at the back of the retreating lawyer. Never before had she felt this abandoned, this isolated, this scared. "He left us. He left us! He left us––"

" _We_ are still here, Edith!" Phyllis sharply fought against the anxiety spiraling within the car, "We are still here and we are _not_ leaving you!"

_._

Jimmy was all for taking the money, all for endorsing the park and making sure he made a tidy fortune out of this. He was even all for briefly enjoying the company of one Thomas Barrow sometime after this weekend, if only for the nice change in pace it would provide him.

But, this. Being hunted by a T-Rex. Left in this nightmare by both Crawleys to fend for himself. This, he was not going to stick around for! And, thank God for the nearby privy because _that_ was how he was going to stay alive, mark his words!

Barreling through the harsh rain, Jimmy scampered at top-speed toward the toilet, his gratitude propelling to impossible heights as he hurriedly threw open the door and dashed into the only stall. The privy was definitely incomplete, certainly needed to be reworked, and was the best damn thing that could've happened to him in the middle of this God awful nightmare.

_._

"And just where does he think he's going?" Cora asked, suspicious of the lawyer's actions. Not only did she _not_ care for Kent, finding his charm only went so far, she also felt wary of the speed in which he was leaving the vehicle.

That he looked to be deserting two of her daughters did not help matters.

John cast a look in the direction of the scurrying lawyer, unimpressed. Anna was equally disenchanted, rolling her eyes at these actions. But, after a few seconds, she realized something was off. There was a certain sort of self-preservation that streaked through his step, a type of frenzy shoving him as far as possible from the car.

_Something's wrong._

She paused, turning to look out the passenger window only to discover the fence was breaking. Mind, breaking might have been an understatement. By now, it was starting to collapse in on itself as the wires began to fracture, viciously snapping free.

"What the––?"

Dr. Hughes looked up at this, having been discreetly studying the raptor claw that Dr. Carson had given her. All her thoughts screeched into a hushed horror at the sight of the " _DANGER!"_ sign harshly slamming down onto the hood of the first car, the entire fence crumpling pathetically as the T-Rex snarled its way through the barrier.

_No._

_Please, not this._

_._

Thomas knew the probability of their getting out of this alive was slim-to-none. Phyllis had studied enough to know a T-Rex would have been like back in its time –– reality being far more blood curdling than any textbook description. And the children were smart enough to guess just how perilous the situation was becoming.

But what they couldn't have known, what was not nearly as obvious, was that help was on the way.

Or, at least, help would be on the way.

Help would be drowning against the rising deluge of pandemonium, clawing its way through everything in its way.

But whether help would come in time...

_That_ was, as Anna had put it only hours before, the real question.

_._

"My daughters!" Knowing that the squirming American would only become prey if she escaped, Anna leaned forward in her seat –– resolutely putting her arms around the struggling woman in order to keep her in her seat.

It almost didn't work.

But the scientist's obstinacy was strong enough to keep Cora inside.

"Mrs. Crawley," Anna fought to calm the woman down, to ensure their making it out alive. " _We_ are the only things that thing is interested in! Your daughters are safe!" _As is Tom and the_ _others!_

Dr. Hughes joined her in this attempt, her mind running on instinct, "Mrs. Crawley, your daughters have one of the finest scientists on earth in the car with them! Baxter knows what she's doing, that I promise. And the best thing we can do is to keep _absolutely_ still! Its vision is based on movement, nothing else!"

She didn't tell the American that this was only a theory and not a proven fact, that there was no guarantee.

As it was, she could only detachedly watch as the creature's interest sluggishly shifted to them.

John watched in a horrified manner as the T-Rex slowly crept along their vehicle, its tail slithering across the ground as it slinked forward. The beast bent down and coldly peered into the car, glaring through the very same window John was sat next to.

It seemed Dr. Hughes was wrong.

_._

Edith did not consider herself to be a brave girl. That classification would go to Sybil every time. And because she could easily admit that character flaw, she had no problems scurrying into the depths of their car to find a flashlight so as to face this fatal danger looming about.

Little did she know, finding that flashlight was only going to seal their fate.

_._

Panic strangled her throat, forcing Elsie to silently fight for air as she absorbed the scene before her. A flashlight fervently flickered about in the car in front of them, the drowning light only attracting the attention of the Tyrannosaurus Rex only hairs away from her window.

The creature was calculating its every move, her nerves twisting and burning away as she watched its heavy breath reach a petrifying conclusion.

There was a new target acquired, new prey to demolish.

And it wasn't them.

_We need a plan!_ The paleontologist forced her brain to kick back into action again, desperate for anything to stop this nightmare from becoming a bloodbath. If they didn't do anything to stop this beast, if they didn't save the others, no one would be making it out alive.

And _that_ was a fact.

_._

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Edith profusely apologized through tears. To say that she was frightened of the now approaching dinosaur was to say that this entire situation was only a little off-putting. Not horrendous. Not a nightmare in the making. Only off-putting.

"Just turn it off, Edith!" Phyllis gently commanded, realizing she would have to reach out for the flashlight and turn it off herself, quietly stowing it away. The second daughter couldn't help but cry at this, guilt and fright wracking up a host of shame.

Thomas placed a hand on the middle Crawley daughter's arm, initially intended to console her. Now, however, he only wanted her and everyone else to shut up. The T-Rex was looking straight at them through the sunroof, its eyes squaring the chaotician's.

And when it fiercely opened its mouth to roar, he finally understood fear.

For he was helpless as the creature smashed its head into––

Everyone was too terrified to thank the makers of Plexiglass for being Tyrannosaurus Rex proof, the dinosaur continuing to repeatedly slam its head back into what had once been the sunroof. There was no time to think, no time to do anything but gape, clutch onto a frozen stare and silently scream when faced with those horrendously petrifying teeth.

_._

"My daughters!" For all this frenzy before her, her body refused to move. Anna didn't need to keep hold of her –– the American was unwillingly glued to her seat. Her daughters looked to be close to being eaten _alive_ from this distance and all she could do was watch in abject horror, desperate to do something, anything! Yet she was falling prey to her own anxiety, the disconcerting sensation holding her captive without fail, mocking her unending incapability.

"My God." John was in absolute shock, unable to comprehend what was going on as Anna shouted, "What can we do?"

These cries for action, this growing cacophony of terror, only forced Dr. Hughes out of despair and back into desperation –– triggering a multitude of half-baked plans that would hopefully form one brilliant one.

"Anna, John, I have an idea," The pair looked toward her, a horrid gut feeling beginning to take hold. "There must be something we can do to distract it from that car! I can run––"

"No, Dr. Hughes!" Images of their colleague being devoured sprang to life, ceasing all other contemplations. A promise to keep the Scot safe tore through all other thoughts and forced the blonde scientist to resolutely state, "You are _not_ going anywhere!"

Well, _that_ declaration wasn't going to stop Elsie Hughes.

"Anna, there's no time for––"

"No heroics!" She repeated what had been just a joke only an hour or so before. It honestly should have remained a joke. It shouldn't have ever become a possibility. It should have remained a joke for as long as they all could live, because the alternative was frankly unacceptable.

"Anna," However, the younger scientist wasn't interested in any arguments. Instead, swiftly urging John to help in this matter, they combined efforts to pin down their colleague just like she had with Mrs. Crawley earlier. With these actions alone, the two managed to forcibly restrain Dr. Hughes to her seat.

That would remain the case even as woman continued to battle their efforts any way she could.

"Anna, John, surely you would not _condemn_ our friends to what is now certain death!"

"There has to be another way!" Anna vehemently protested this foolish attempt at martyrdom, wishing Dr. Carson were here to stop her. He would have been able to keep Dr. Hughes from risking her life, one way or another. "Mrs. Crawley, is there anything you can find in the front to help–– Mrs. Crawley?"

Had they been able to keep hold of both Dr. Hughes and Mrs. Crawley, perhaps these next ten minutes wouldn't have been as monstrous. But the American in question had long since opened the door and slipped out of the car, hellbent on saving her children.

Anna let out a strong curse at this, letting go of her hold on Dr. Hughes and instructing John not to let her out. Now the blonde only had one objective: stop Cora Crawley from going on a suicide mission.

Because that's all the scientist saw this as:

A suicide mission destined to end atrociously for all involved.

Her Scottish colleague, on the other hand, had a different opinion on Mrs. Crawley's decision. She didn't think that the American should so carelessly throw her life away in the face of everything.

_But_ she did agree that risk was an inherent part of their all surviving this nightmare.

That was why she understood her patron's motivation. Her only regret was that they couldn't charge the beast together or worked out a more efficient plan.

That was also why, upon being released from Anna's hold, Dr. Hughes shot a menacing glare at John –– vexed that the man was still keeping a firm grip on her, following his orders to the letter. Apparently being more handicapped than the average person didn't make him incapable of restraining her. And that cane of his was ridiculously helpful in his current endeavours to keep her in her seat.

But they were all being damn foolish not letting her go! If he and Anna allowed her to try her plan out, they might make it out alive!

Truly, she didn't want to find out if she would be willing to incapacitate friends in order to ensure the safety of the group. Because, if push came to shove, that was _exactly_ what she would do to guarantee everyone else made it out alive.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Hughes," His tone was anything but apologetic. And did she detect a hint of grim humour, of a resolved attitude determined to keep her trapped here and away from that creature? _How dare––_ "But I can't let you leave this vehicle."

Elsie Hughes was past scowling at the unnecessarily resolute statement, certainly not caring for this sort of stubbornness at such a time. Now was the time for action, for saving the lives of others, whatever the cost. If anyone died on her watch she would not forgive herself.

And if John Bates was going to be needlessly stubborn about safety at a time like this, if he thought she would accept this and do nothing, then she'd have to take matters into her own hands.

"Fine. Then ye can either help me search its contents or so help me––" She let the threat slice through the air unfinished, indifferent to the fact that her words were beginning to slip into a strewn of sound.

He silently nodded at this command. And, releasing his hold on her, John kept a careful eye as he watched the woman check the vehicle for any helpful surprises.

Like their own flashlight to distract the bloody monster.

By this point, she'd take anything she could get.

_._

Cora found herself hurtling towards the car with the children the moment her legs crashed into the ground. But there was no plan of how to distract that damn beast from her children and the others. She could only watch as said car was hurled toward the barrier, being shoved toward what had to be a precipice with a fifty or sixty foot drop. And all she knew was that she never _ever_ wanted to experience anything like this ever again.

"Mrs. Crawley!" The cry was far quieter than the T-Rex's continued sounds of destruction, not initially grabbing Cora's attention.

Anna's arms, on the other hand, snagged her focus without fail.

The American quickly found her suddenly trapped by the scientist's determined arms for a second time, the scientist now firmly dragging her away from the dinosaur.

"What are you––" A hand found itself silencing the woman as the shocked outcry from Cora almost pulled the creature's attention toward them.

"We can't save them if we're dead, Mrs. Crawley!" Anna firmly hissed, her heart breaking as she witnessed the car draw closer to the edge. In lieu of a proper investigation of the automobile, it seemed the Tyrannosaurus Rex was settling for viciously ripping the tires to shreds, ravaging the undercarriage past the point of recognition, practically annihilating the vehicle within seconds.

If they had any chance of rescuing the others before, it was definitely not happening now.

_._

"Flares." Dr. Hughes muttered through gritted teeth, her hands already readying the object in question. And with that one word, John Bates could feel his heart drop to an impossible depth –– suddenly foreseeing something he didn't like the sound of. "I'll nae e'en question it."

_This is not a good id––_ "Dr. Hughes!"

Before he could even hope to stop her, the woman had slipped out of the vehicle and shut the door. In seconds, it was obvious she was already gaining enough speed to do whatever it was she wanted. And with his leg having been screaming at him for the last day or so, the island's terrain far rougher than he'd preferred, everything was taking enough of a toll that John knew better than to recklessly charge after her.

But, make no mistake: charging recklessly was an action he was _strongly_ considering. In fact, he even lunged after her to try and stop her, only to growl in pain as his leg gave out on him, sending the man onto the car seats.

A curse for the situation was only one of many things that snarled across his mind. But snarling looked to be the only thing he was capable of: he could hardly breathe, the exertion that came with these last thirty minutes having been almost laughable in its damage. Never before had he felt so bloody helpless, never before did he carry this much hatred for his old injury.

_We all carry scars, inside or out._ She had once given him this sentiment, handing it over when the residual pain had gotten too much to bear, when he'd wondered what the point of it all was. She had reminded him that he wasn't alone, that he had friends who were there for him, no matter the scars he carried.

He didn't deny this was true.

He also just so happened to know that his scars were going to get her killed.

_._

They were going to die and Sybil didn't want to die, not yet. Not here in this suffocating car, not when there was so much more to do in life. She hadn't started to challenge herself academically, she still wanted to learn how to cook for herself, and–– and she still wanted to see everything she could with Tom.

There was so much to do and now there was no time left for her.

So determined to live was she, she frantically crawled toward her sister and the others. The open rear window was close enough to escaping the car she could almost taste it––

The girl shrieked as a seat came down, trapping her feet in the vehicle. _No, no, no!_ She pushed against the weight, determined to free herself against this numbing trap now constricting her every move.

It was useless.

"Sybil!" Voices vehemently protested her entrapment, their panic escalating far past what the girl thought possible. Tom's anguish battled against the others, desperately rising above the confusion in the vehicle, gripping her as much as a voice could in the unknown.

"Go on, Tom! Edith!" But her friend and her sister were trying to free her, tears streaming down their faces. "Edith, you need to make it back to Mama and Papa––"

"No!" The older daughter resistantly sobbed, fighting this with every breath she had, "I'm not leaving you behind!"

Sybil turned to her friend, not wanting him to leave but not wanting him to die either. There was so much she wanted to tell her friend, so many things she wanted to share after all this time.

"Tom––"

"Excuse me!"

_What?_

They all craned their necks in the general area of the shout as much as they dared, not knowing where it came from. Everyone recognized the voice, but not the motivation behind it.

Nor why it held such piercing contempt, deafening enough for any creature to catch.

_._

"Excuse me––" Anna looked up at the sound, dreadfully floored. Having wound up tackling Mrs. Crawley to the ground when the woman kicked up another struggle, she was still trapped on the ground and a captive to this nightmare. "Excuse––"

An earsplitting whistle pierced through the air, slicing through the chaos and bringing all attention away from the children.

_Oh, no._

The very thing she'd been trying to avoid for the last ten minutes or so was unapologetically standing right in front of her. The promise she'd given Charles Carson was crumbling right in front of her eyes. And she was entrenched in far too much –– the burdening mud begin to rise, a squirming and desperate Cora Crawley –– to stop it.

The Scottish Nodosaur had finally escaped.

And, coldly seething at the audacity of the day, incensed by the chaos they'd been plunged into, she looked ready to _kill_.

Dr. Elsie Hughes held the crackling flare firmly out in front of her, the woman's eyes smouldering with a protectiveness that radiated cerulean command. She stood her ground more solidly than a triceratops, resolutely challenging the beast before her with a demeanour that absorbed and refracted true domination. Flames spewed unendingly out of the flare she held, only further accentuating the fact that her very existence demanded attention from the predator standing several feet away.

The Tyrannosaurus Rex slowly swiveled its head in the direction of the doctor, hints of a renewed vigor creeping back into its breath as eerie yellow eyes followed the controlled movement of the flare. The creature's only focus was that of the flames licking up into the sky, flames she yielded with deft precision, flames that caressed the air like a digger's brush running over fossil remains. Within seconds, the dinosaur ruthlessly began to amble towards her. Determination fiercely struck forth, destruction outstripping all other desires. All the scientist could do was continue to move the flare steadily back and forth, her heart galloping as the creature came closer and closer and clos––

"I'm not condemning _you_ to death, Dr. Hughes!"

Before she realized what was happening, an incredibly foolish Anna Bates had come out of nowhere, slamming the doctor toward the ground and taking the flare for herself.

"Anna––" But the ground was far harsher than it looked, the word painful enough to shove her lungs back into a burning hush.

Without another word, the younger scientist took charge of distracting the Tyrannosaurus Rex. With the flare boldly clutched her hand, she hastily bolted away from everyone and proceeded to hurl it over what was left of the fence –– praying the flare's presence would distract every predator in the vicinity.

Unfortunately, prayer was not enough.

Since she kept moving, Anna had unintentionally obtained the creature's focus. And it was with an insuppressible horror that Elsie watched her colleague be hurled through the air –– mercilessly being flung into a wooden part of the nearest building. The scientist soared with the grace of an inept pterodactyl, crashing into the infrastructure without so much as a chance to shield herself from the inevitable harm.

It would be a miracle if she came out of this alive.

_Anna!_ The woman mentally screamed for her colleague, half a dozen throbbing fires running down her body. She watched on in abject revulsion, reeling in her own anguish and ire at this horrific ordeal.

The T-Rex moved on from Anna, apparently indifferent to her plight. Instead, it eviscerated the outhouse Kent had fled to within seconds, Elsie dismally confident that the lawyer was about to be finished off in a rather gruesome fashion.

But she couldn't think of that when there were lives still at stake.

Forcing herself to ignore the abhorrent facts before her, Elsie looked back to the car with the children only to discover that Cora was determinedly crawling toward it –– clearly injured in some capacity, but continually desperate to make a difference for her children.

Well, that decided it.

"Mrs. Crawley, kindly remain still!" She ordered, shoving her brogue and her pain and her dreaded acceptance that this was it as far down as everything would go, forcibly turning back again to see that John was still in the car. Ascertaining he was there and fully cognizant, she signaled with her hands for him to _slowly_ come out and _quietly_ help Cora get back to the car. The man begrudgingly began to do so, but not before scowling at her. Agony aside, he clearly wanted to race after Anna. She could only nod with a pained understanding before signaling that –– if they wanted to ensure the woman made it out of this alive –– they couldn't do a thing.

Not yet.

Only once he angrily conceded her point, the man outwardly fuming as much as she craved to, Elsie forced herself to her feet. Every movement ignited more biting aches, the world threatening to wobble and spin with each step. But she persisted in heading back to the others still trapped, hellbent to get as many to safety as possible. She would have to double-back to ensure that John and Cora and Anna were all right, but she had to prioritize the children.

"Phyllis! Edith! Sybil!" The paleontologist continued to desperately call out for each and every one of them, everyone in that bloody car. She tried her best to whisper even as her heart demanded she shout. Bringing herself into a crouching position by what remained of the car's smashed windows, she prayed once again for the best despite the fact that she was preparing for the worst-case scenarios.

"Dr. Hughes!" It was muffled, but told her that at least Edith was alive. Another "Dr. Hughes, we're here!" coming from Phyllis gave her hope that they could make it out of here alive. That Thomas, Tom and Sybil hadn't responded yet was concerning. But Baxter's voice implied that Elsie could continue clinging to hope.

"Is everyone okay? Can you all move?"

The resounding choruses from Thomas, Edith, Tom, and Phyllis did much to reassure.

There was just one problem, one voice missing from the fray.

"Where's Sybil? Sybil, are you all right?"

"She's stuck, Dr. Hughes," Tom called out, his voice quivering at the very thought.

"The seat's got my feet!" Sybil echoed the sentiment, petrified.

_No, no,_ _ **no**_ –– "Sybil, I'll be right there for you, but I need to get the others out first."

Elsie pulled out Edith first, checking the young girl over for any hidden injuries. The middle Crawley sister proceeded to hug her for a solid seven seconds, relieved beyond belief she was out of that awful car.

"Are you all right, Edith?" A fervent nod from the girl told Elsie that, despite this assurance, the girl was still trapped to the panic bubbling inside her. Understandably so. "All right, I'm going to get the others out now and I need you to be very brave when I do so, okay?"

"Okay," She agreed, absolutely remaining in shock but trying her best to help.

Elsie nodded to herself at this before going back to the ground and figuring out who to drag out next. But before she could make any other decisions, Edith unwillingly screamed again –– the shriek calling her attention back.

_Damn it!_

The Tyrannosaurus Rex had returned. And it looked like it was still on the prowl for some form of prey.

Cutting to the chase, Elsie silenced Edith by quickly clapping a hand over her mouth, "It can't see us if we don't move."

Of course, this was the moment in which the gargantuan beast came trudging back toward them, fully intent on calling them out on their pathetic bluff.

Frightened out of their wits, the pair remained frozen in their spots even as the T-Rex lowered its mouth only inches away from them –– its ghastly large teeth practically fondling them in a ruthless fashion. The disgusting odours that accompanied the foul creature, the stench of blood among other appalling things, dripped onto them apathetically. They were at the mercy of this creature, this king of dinosaurs that had no other mission than to attack its prey, and they knew it.

_**Whack!** _

Before they could catch their breath, the car was spinning –– slammed from behind by the T-Rex. Metal pressed against them unsympathetically, taunting them to adapt to their situation, cajoling them into a fatal round of "Simon Says".

Only, "Simon" was a larger-than-life dinosaur who had no desire to lose.

After several seconds of frantic scampering about as the car inched closer and closer to the drop, they could hear the sound of screams and harsh cries of "Get away, you––!" from inside the vehicle, the dinosaur still terrorizing their friends and colleagues. But before they could do anything to destroy this unending nightmare, the pair found themselves scrambling back and forth to avoid the second round of the deadly game.

Closer to the edge than ever before, the paleontologist was acting on pure survival instinct. There were no thoughts or contemplations; only movement hell-bent on surviving.

And with the Tyrannosaurus Rex making one final horrendous lunge at the car, the scientist saw her opportunity.

Taking note of one of the dangling fence cables on the other side of the barrier, she quickly instructed Edith to hold on tight. Only once the child had safely wrapped her arms around Elsie's neck did the woman force herself to start the climb down the side of the drop. They hadn't a moment to lose, not if they wanted to give anyone else on this damn island a chance to survive.

"Sybil!" Edith screamed for her sister while Elsie forced away any similar desires to call out to the others. She could only grip the cable for dear life, trying her best to rappel before the car tipped over the edge of the barrier and killed them all. She was no athlete, but years in this field meant she had to be in decent shape. However, already she knew they wouldn't be able to make it to the ground and get out of the way in time. Their despairingly sluggish speed of descent in tandem with the velocity of a plummeting car would undoubtedly only equate to certain death.

In short, they needed to change the plan.

"Edith," Eyes scanning the vicinity, she quickly found what she was looking for: other cables to climb, cables that would be out of the car's way and would allow them to make it to the ground safely. And shoving her own demons out of her mind, steadying her voice as much as possible, "I need you to be brave again."

The girl's hold on her tightened for a moment, nearly choking the older woman as another wave of panic strangled Edith's resolve. The middle Crawley daughter was too scared for bravery, judging from her grip.

She would need some more encouragement other than that of a request for strength.

"Edith," The sound loosened her clutch, giving Elsie a chance to speak, "We might be able to save Sybil and the others. But if we're going to do that, we'll need to swing over and grab that other cable. Do you understand me?" That didn't really instill newfound confidence in the young girl, the child continuing to shake and tremble at the thought of swinging over.

Still, it was a start.

"Yes, Dr. Hughes," Though the words were meekly spoken, Elsie could hear a glimmer of determination within the child. Said child's constricting hold loosened a bit more to prepare for the next part of the task, a sense of duty gradually building within the young girl –– one that forced her to put aside her anxiety as best as she could. "I do."

"All right. I'll swing, you grab." There was no time for more eloquent instructions, though Elsie would've reckoned that Dr. Carson would've been able to do as such. Though, speaking of Dr. Carson –– _Charles. His name is Charles._ –– she briefly became distracted by the thought that she might never see him again. That, if they didn't succeed and escape this horrendous death-trap, then she might never––

"Well, we're gonnae escape." Elsie hissed to herself, starting to swing toward the cable. She could feel Edith strain herself to reach the cable in question, struggling to reach.

It wasn't a successful attempt.

The doctor managed to snag some more momentum, the idea of seeing Charles and everyone _alive_ fueling her motivation to snatch that bloody cable. This time, with only a few heartbeats left to them before certain death, Edith reached out for the second cable, scrabbling to bring them over to safety.

Whether they would make it or not all depended on her.

But, brave or not, Edith managed to clutch the cable.

They were safe.

When the car finally plummeted over the edge Elsie was relieved to see it only plunged into a tree. Infinitely preferable to colliding into the ground, seeing as how that would've killed everyone inside. With this change in situation, it gave them a chance for rescue. They could work with saving Sybil and the others from a tree, even if the situation was ideal.

Of course, nothing in this bloody park was ideal.

But all thought of escape was forgotten when it was clear that the Tyrannosaurus Rex had remained in the vicinity. The creature darkly roared once more, something far more carnal than vexation or wrath clutched within its predatory call. But, it couldn't do anything to them. The thing could only harshly glare down as the pair mentally collected themselves and began to feel so very, very thankful to be alive.

That was until they realized that surviving this part of the ordeal guaranteed nothing….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I really didn't realize how many darn cliffhangers are in this story/movie! But, as I said before, this is the most violent chapter. It may also be the most life-threatening/suspenseful, but would I be a good author if I gave that away?
> 
> Also! As someone with an accent that's only distinct only when stress or exhausted (as a friend would say, it's a whole other world after 3 a.m.), I felt that all bets would be off in a scenario like this chapter.
> 
> In any case, I do hope you enjoyed that. And, if nothing else, best of luck with everything! I'll be seeing you in 2-3 days!


	7. Plummeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** I'm pleased to say that this chapter is _much_ easier to read, having a lot less violence. And while there is a character death, it is skimmed over.
> 
> **Warning:** Brief character death, and a mentioning of a character death as well as some minor graphic descriptions.

"I will kill O'Brien." Ray's never heard Robert seethe this much. It was honestly terrifying, the patron obviously being pushed past his limit. Wherever O'Brien was, Ray had to guess she was a dead woman. "I will absolutely kill her."

Bird came barreling through the door, a stormy attitude trailing in her wake. She always looked ready to a commit a murder of her own, the technician never finding her to be a cheery person, but this level of fury was just bad.

"Well?" Mr. Crawley demanded, "Did you find her?"

"There's no sign of her anywhere." The warden curtly stated, irritated. Sounded like they needed a distraction, a change in subject.

"Are we getting anywhere with these procedures of yours, Mr. Arnold?" The technician turned to Dr. Carson, not needing the unspoken criticism. The fact that the scientist had to ask only showed how much confidence he had in the procedures.

"Yes, what precisely is the hold-up, Mr. Arnold?" Mary primly asked. The man arched an eyebrow at the child, past the point of being incredulous about her tone. Did she really just talk to him as though she was his boss?

But, in the end, he decided to take her seriously.

_._

Charles Carson may not have any competence with technology, but that wasn't going to stop him from finding out what was going on.

"I ran a key check on every stroke O'Brien entered today. It's all pretty standard stuff, until this one––"

"Which one, Mr. Arnold?" The paleobotanist found himself asking, having not a clue as to what was on the screen and quietly cursing his current ineptitude. Ray pointed to his screen, indicating a specific string of code. This prompted everyone to try to get a good look at the screen, intrigued.

"'Keycheck / space -o keycheck off safety -o'. She turned the safety systems off. She didn't want anyone to see what she was about to do." _That doesn't sound reassuring._ "Now look at this next entry, it's the kicker:" Whatever it was the technician wanted him to see, Charles couldn't make it out. "Whatever it did, it did it all. But with the Keycheck off, the computer didn't file the keystrokes. So, the only way to find them now is to search the computer's lines of code one by one."

"And just how many lines are there, Mr. Arnold?" Matthew asked, unable to help himself.

The technician didn't look happy to admit it: "About two million, kid."

"Oh, good, that'll take no time." Bird sarcastically remarked, not helping matters.

"Beryl," Mr. Crawley quietly spoke, attracting the scientist's attention, "I wonder if you would be kind enough to take a gas jeep and bring back my wife and children?"

"Sure." Patmore affirmed, already pivoting around in the direction of the exit as though this was a foregone conclusion.

"I'm going with her," Yes, he was volunteering to go back into that nightmare. And, yes, it was entirely possible that their efforts to rescue the others would be futile by this point.

But, whatever state he found her in, Charles would not be leaving Elsie behind.

"Me, too!" Mary insisted, Matthew chorusing the same –– something that wouldn't be happening anytime soon, being much too dangerous.

"I'd really rather not––" Robert reeled in his anger, his fear, at his eldest's declaration. "Mary, I couldn't stand––"

"Mr. Crawley, if I may," It really took something to stand up to Mr. Crawley, especially considering that the man and his wife had essentially funded Charles' life for some time now.

"You may, Dr. Carson."

Taking full advantage of this opportunity, the paleobotanist rested on one knee –– kneeling as best as he could to take away any idea that he was just another authority figure intent on bossing her around.

She took well to this, uncrossing her arms and raising yet another prim eyebrow at him.

"Mary," The scientist whispered rather seriously to her, knowing that behind that regal mask was a child who was terrified about the future. "We need someone to make sure your father remains calm. I'm certainly not suited for the task, but I think you are."

She took in his words with an unusually neutral expression, calculating just how honest he was being. Though, upon thinking about how her father could be quite taken with histrionics when there was no one to curb his behavior, she saw the rationale behind the request.

"Of course, Dr. Carson." The girl primly stated, as though the whole thing were her own idea. He didn't mind, either. And, proceeding to turn to Matthew to give the boy instructions –– he knew that someone had to be there for Mary if this didn't work out –– Charles focused on maintaining a confidence he didn't really feel.

"Bring them back alive, Dr. Carson." Mary commanded when he turned back to her, almost convincing him that she was not panicking in the process. But that mask of hers, a version of what he'd crafted for himself over the years, was as plain as day. At least to him. "Please."

As the children and the scientist continued to whisper, requests to ensure that everyone would make it out alive, another furtive discussion was being held.

"Robert," Ray muttered to the man, a little thankful Mary, Matthew, and Dr. Carson were distracted. He hadn't been looking forward to delivering this news, not by a long shot.

"Yes, Ray?"

The patron already sensed the answer before the technician gave anything away. Yet the words still overtook him, their hopelessness serving only to bring further panic:

"Robert, I can't get Jurassic Park back online without Sarah O'Brien."

_._

John Bates had once described what a pack of raptors could do when on the hunt. He had illustrated the severity of their power as well as their tactics for their prey. How their cunning and their power meant a slow, torturous death for any who challenged them.

However, he had never taken into consideration what other factors might contribute to the scenario. Endless torrents of water, for instance, brought on by what had to be one of the worst tropical storms ever experienced. That would only add disorientation for the prey, swirling an existence of fear toward crescendoing terror, toward frenzied escape, all brought on from stealing the secrets of former employers.

Had John Bates known how those factors might have magnified a raptor attack, what disgusting alternatives those changes would imply for any prey, he might've held sympathy for Sarah O'Brien as she careened through the park in order to escape.

As it stood, even had he realized what her ending would be, he would be unusually hard-pressed to express true sympathy. That wasn't to say he would hold none, merely that he would find it difficult to muster up any sort of emotion. The woman's greed, her ruthlessly arrogant attitude, had resulted in the severe endangerment of his team and people who meant a great deal to him.

Which meant that, in the man's eyes, all bets were off when it came to his own sympathy.

All that mattered was getting everyone back alive and well.

_._

Elsie Hughes understood fully well that she would never be able to comprehend the level of trauma Edith Crawley was currently experiencing. Although her own mind had evolved into its own labyrinth of despair throughout this, the child had to be living in a world of terror. However, the Scot was also aware of the fact that remaining here at the bottom of this barrier, especially when safety was _not_ a guarantee, would not be wise.

Which meant that, terror or not, they had to keep moving.

Of course, it didn't help that she could feel blood all over her face –– apparently, she'd obtained a small gash on her forehead in the process of this adventure.

It also didn't help that the girl was currently gasping for air, the poor child only a minute from a full-blown panic attack.

"Edith," Quickly rinsing off enough blood off her face to look reassuring, the scientist turned to the young girl, absolutely willing to set aside her own fears if it meant the Crawley daughter listened to her, "Edith, I need you to breathe with me."

The girl only turned to her in abject horror, trapped in the memory of the last ten minutes, causing Elsie to bite her lip and wonder what the best course of action would be. Casting her mind back to observing the young girl over the course of the day, she was reminded of how fiercely she had hugged her mother upon seeing her, an idea sparking.

Now normally, she found that when people were panicking they needed space to breathe. However, people in shock typically were almost always handed off blankets, warmth offered to stabilize them. And since there wasn't a blanket in sight, she was convinced it was worth a shot to gently open her arms to the girl and signal that it was perfectly all right to ––

Edith needed no further invitation, frantically wrapping her arms around the older woman and burrowing herself deeply into the soothing embrace. Elsie herself felt ease overtake her at this, the action alleviating tension she'd been oblivious to.

In the back of her mind, the scientist understood the chemical processes taking place over the course of this exchange, having had to take a few classes on the subject years ago; the woman, on the other hand, merely breathed into the familial sensations running down her spine, taking in the comfort this hug gave her.

"There, there," Elsie murmured, trying her best to project an aura of comfort as Edith continued to sob, the sound muffled by the soothing embrace, "Just let it out."

Tears, as it happened, contained different chemicals within them for the occasion. To cry was to literally release the chemicals one's body needs to let go of: fear, joy, relief, so on and so forth. Therefore, this approach allowed the girl to quietly release her pain and regain some semblance of peace. And soon enough sobs eased into sniffles that dissipated into the silence. And once the girl looked to be as consoled as she could be, the paleontologist took this as an opportunity to discreetly look about the area for the others. She didn't dare call out just yet, not needing to startle Edith or alert any predators to their presence.

Luckily, the nearly pulverized Explorer had found its way into a nearby tree. Which meant that the occupants were quite possibly not pummeled to death by the fall. Unfortunately, just as her eyes caught sight of it, she also caught a cracking noise –– watching the vehicle drop further down into the branches.

"Is that––?" Edith also noticed the vehicle up in the tree, horror creeping back into her voice.

"It is." But before the child could jump to any terrifying conclusions, "And we're going to make sure they all make it alive. And, in order to do that, I'm going to need you to be brave again, Edith. Can you do that?"

She nodded, much paler than before but terribly determined to rescue her sister and the others. Still, even brave souls had trepidation, "You won't leave us, will you, Dr. Hughes?"

The Scot inwardly sighed at this, knowing that it was not her place to make any promises she couldn't guarantee. But this was a terribly difficult and dangerous world to live in, one that brought out the worst in people, one wherein everyone craved for some sort of guarantee.

"I won't leave you, Edith." And, making sure to give one last proper hug to the girl, "And, it's Elsie."

Once the scientist was sure the child was as consoled as she could be, she swiftly turned around to examine the tree –– hearing the sounds of Edith scampering into the nearby culvert. After a moment, it was clear that there was only one way up.

_Well, it's a good thing Dr. Cars–– Charles isn't here,_ she wryly thought to herself, reaching for the first available branch. Heaven knows what her friend might've done if she had attempted this in his presence. Although this was an old habit from her childhood, she couldn't see him approving of her scaling up this tree.

It was the thought of her friend that pushed her to methodically carry herself higher and higher into the branches. His voice cautioned her when it came to which branches to take, the weight of his token in her pocket giving her strength. It had been a blessed discovery when she realized she'd long since place the fossil back in her pocket, the treasure remaining safe and sound throughout all of this.

"My, my," But saying this was more habit than anything else. The sight of the severely damaged car had struck her greatly, causing the woman to falter in her approach as she tried her best not to dread this next part. It was entirely possible that everyone within the vehicle was beyond saving, that she was too late.

"Sybil? Phyllis?"

Still hearing nothing from the car, a chilling silence gripping her, "Tom? Thomas?"

Nothing.

Elsie sharply exhaled at the growing discomfort, hoping that there would be an answer before she had to investigate. Perhaps, if they were alive, it was only that they weren't able to hear her.

_Well, now._ Reality wouldn't be unearthed if she remained here.

Making her way to the window, her breath clutching the air for support the closer she drew, the woman prepared for the worst. And when she was as ready as she could ever be, forcing herself to ignore the rising dread, she pushed herself to steal a look inside the vehicle.

"Dr. Hughes, it's you!" _Thank God **.**_ "We're all right."

She wasn't one for prayer.

This miracle might've just changed her opinion. At least a little.

They were all relatively unscathed, much as they could be. Bumps, scratches, bruises, blood, injuries of all sorts scattered themselves throughout the weary group. But there was no obvious signs of any emergency except for the off-putting smell of––

"I'm afraid Tom threw up," Phyllis informed her colleague, looking a bit peaky herself. "But Thomas's right: I think we're all okay."

_I'll take it._ She would take a little vomit over death any day. "Can you manage getting out? Is anyone stuck?"

Elsie received a chorus of affirmation they could all manage, prompting her for the next course of action, "Right. Sybil, Tom can you give me your hand? Phyllis, Thomas, you should be good to slip out –– there's branches on either side."

Everyone nodded, coming together to make their way out of the vehicle as quickly as possible. There was just one problem…

"Sybil? Tom?" Elsie was in the process of reaching out, already recognizing that there was too much between them for an easy rescue. As it stood, she had to take hold of the steering wheel to make this work, pulling herself toward the children –– oblivious to the effects of this action.

"Dr. Hughes, the wheels are turning!" But, it was too late.

The front wheels of the vehicle had already shifted, their grip on the thick branch underneath loosening. It was enough to push Elsie and Sybil to clutch hands, Tom still too far away to reach, the Scot managing to securely wrap an arm around the girl.

"Go ahead!" She sharply commanded Phyllis and Thomas, painfully aware as to what would happen if they didn't get a move on. If the vehicle shifted any further, if it moved from this spot, it would cause chaos among the branches and potentially send them all to their deaths. Since the vehicle wasn't moving for the moment, this was the best chance to safely make their way down the tree and back to the blessed ground. "Ready to move, Sybil? I'll be coming for you, too, Tom!"

"Ready, Dr. Hughes!" It took far too many seconds to get the girl out of the vehicle, but they did it. Coming back to collect Tom, Elsie realized that even throwing up couldn't shake the child's spirit, the Branson boy quite determined to make it back home.

"Right." Beginning to lead the way down, slowly catching up to Thomas and Phyllis, the pair made their way down. "Did your father ever build you a treehouse, Sybil?"

It was something Elsie could hardly see Robert Crawley doing, but it was also a way of maintaining conversation and distracting the child. Her only regret was that she didn't know Tom's parents, not wanting to risk triggering him if someone wasn't in the picture.

"No," The young girl confessed, "But Aunt Isobel did!"

The scientist and Tom chuckled at this, both liking the sound of this Aunt Isobel. For a moment, Elsie was reminded of her childhood, of her own tree climbing days and her own Aunt Isobel.

For one dangerous moment, she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings.

When the car groans from above, the sounds of sagging branches clawing at their ears, Elsie doesn't need to look up to know what's going on. Quickly shouting at Sybil and Tom to match her pace, not needing the children to be caught in the fear that comes with looking up, the woman glances back down to note that something has delayed Thomas and Phyllis in their own descent –– the sound of explicit pain reaching them from down below.

But there's no time to wonder, not with branches helplessly crumbling above them. Instead, she can only coax Sybil into taking hold of her much like Edith had with the ropes, instructing the child to keep a tight grip as she dropped them further toward the ground. Tom's barely matching their pace, being too large to hold onto the woman.

They're practically falling by this point, incessantly being scratched by all sides as the mud indifferently awaits them.

Another branch breaks in the distance, the vehicle-turned-death-trap crashing through what felt like rows of twigs, heading right toward them. Elsie desperately lifts her arm in defense, prepared to at least save the children and give them more time to escape, but the car only slams into another branch just above them.

Ignoring the fact that the front grill of the Explorer is only inches from her eyes, the woman focuses on regaining her momentum and continuing in this awful descent. Haphazardly descending, back to what is essentially falling through the tree, the wind slaps the air out of her as adrenaline pushes them to keep moving, everything harshly gripping her as the ground continues to approach them.

"Sybil, Tom, I need you to drop!" The girl's previous hold on her had been sufficient for beating a hasty retreat. Now it's time for different measures.

Being unable to see Tom, she has to trust he will be able to handle himself when it comes to this next part. If she were to drop the remaining distance from here with Sybil attached, the child might be the only one to survive. As it stands, Sybil and Tom still might be the only ones to survive this next part. "Phyllis is right down there, don't you see her? She'll be able to catch you, Sybil."

Luckily, the youngest Crawley daughter does as told, dropping down into the arms of Phyllis Baxter. The woman staggers from the weight, hurrying out of the way as best as she could. Tom soon falls down himself, safely scurrying out of the way the moment he can.

_Right._

It's her turn.

The air rushes up to coldly greet her as she plummets, the woman belatedly wondering if this will be it. She's not dropped this much in years, the endless, aching throbs of her body not helping her confidence that this will work. Briefly, her thoughts revolve around her friend, praying the man's not experiencing a similar fate. That he's indeed in the compound, far away from this nightmare. Perhaps, if they all make it out of this alive, she'll take the risk and do so much more than hold hands––

Slamming into the unforgiving terrain, wind mercilessly knocking any air out of her, Elsie rolls over as best as she can, the world twirling in her wake, muscles beginning to give out. Adrenaline's not enough to push her out of harm's way, blue eyes widen –– understanding this.

There will be no way to escape the vehicle's descent.

Unwillingly, she shuts her eyes –– grasping that luxury as much as she can. She ought to stare her death in its face but, just like with Charles, she's too much of a coward. She can only keep her vision bathed in darkness, lips starting to bleed from the pressure of her worries. At least Phyllis and Thomas are there to help the children. Her only regret now is that Edith will retreat too much into herself, lacking any trust in the world because of this bloody weekend.

But it's too late for regrets.

Detachedly listening to the screams harshly ringing out, praying that someone's shielding the children from getting a first glimpse at this newfound trauma –– berating herself for having made that foolish promise that would severely damage the girl for years to come –– Elsie resigns herself to her fate as she hears the sound of the car tipping over. Her hand finds the Raptor claw in these last few seconds, grief digging into her heart as the wind sharply whistles one final time, metal apathetically tilting through the air.

Air slams into her lungs, metal encasing her before she has a chance to move.

But death does not strike.

Only bewilderment.

"Dr. Hughes!"

A voice swirls past the confusion, stirring the paleontologist back. She moves her head groggily, the world dipping in and out of focus before it becomes clear the sunroof –– the same one that had been obliterated by that Tyrannosaurus Rex earlier –– has shielded her from being crushed.

"Charles?" It's a groan more than anything else, weakly hitting up against the metal and dissipating in seconds. But she can't hear the voice anymore, blurs of noise spinning around her as the world began to swing, adrenaline leaving. She can only try to focus on regaining her bearings.

Still, her mind can't help but think of a certain someone, her bearings abandoned.

It's a certain someone who looked like he was about to kiss her only hours ago. Someone she'd jokingly conversed about children once, but someone she now knows she seriously wanted to discuss the matter with. Someone she'd spent quite some time wondering about –– trying to guess what on earth he'd been about to tell her that day, that day Cora Crawley had officially stepped into their lives.

_Had it really only been a few days ago?_

"Dr. Hughes?"

Adrenaline continues to seep out of her, leaving the woman trembling in the grass as a selfish disappointment floods her. It's Phyllis Baxter who approaches, not Charles, the woman cautiously making her way to the vehicle.

"I'm here, Phyllis." Elsie wearily smiles at the sigh of relief her colleague gives upon hearing the declaration, her thoughts still trapped. Why did all of this come to mind now? Why were these feelings piecing together to form one succinct conclusion?

Sluggishly, against her body's demand for rest, the paleontologist determinedly crawls out from underneath the destruction, pleased to say she requires little assistance from her colleague. In fact, the more the grass brushes against her, the longer it took to get out from this trap, the more resolved she became. A clarity pulls her muscles into action, tremors fading into the background as she finally makes it back onto her feet.

"Dr. Hughes?"

"I'm all right, Phyllis."

And she is. Shaken to the core, desperate to know what happened to the others and firm on the fact that they had to make it out alive, yes. Probably more injured than she's willing to concede, no doubt suffering from unspoken bruises and worse, true.

But she is fine.

And until she hears otherwise, she has to presume everyone is fine, too. She has to presume that –– whatever else –– they can all keep going.

It's absolutely selfish in her mind, pushing everyone far past their limits, but she needs to keep going, whatever the cost.

_**_._** _

Phyllis Baxter normally didn't try to interfere when her friends were being stubborn. However, seeing Dr. Hughes make her way out of that vehicle, the woman shaking like a leaf on more than one occasion, she had half a mind to interfere.

"Dr. Hughes!" But the children had something that needed attending to, judging from their voices, "Dr. Hughes, Dr. Barrow's hurt himself!"

"It's nothing," What was it about people that made them so determined to pretend nothing was wrong? "Just slipped when getting out of that tree."

"That looks like more than just a slip, Dr. Barrow." Dr. Hughes knowingly reprimanded, though Phyllis felt she was one to talk. Sure, the woman had stopped trembling and didn't look nearly as pained. But, still. "Why don't you lie down a moment?"

"We need to keep moving, Dr. Hughes. There'll be time to lie down later."

"Where's Edith?" Phyllis wasn't in the mood for this continued battle of wills, having noticed the Crawley girl missing.

"She's still in the culvert."

"All right." It seemed Dr. Hughes was taking charge again, "I'll talk to her, you make sure he rests."

"That's not necessary––"

"It is." Both women affirmed this, the pair unimpressed.

_._

"We're here, Dr. Carson."

It was with more discomfort than anything that Charles Carson found himself finally stepping out of the Jeep, the man immediately taking stock of the destruction before him. He felt as though he were an apparition, a shadow of himself, fervently walking through a world where none of his life existed.

When it became clear that Elsie was nowhere in sight, that feeling only solidified.

Cora was in clear shock, looking perfectly indifferent to the world from this distance. However, Charles had no interest in the patron, hurrying over to where Bates lay –– someone resting in his arms, the figure out just out of sight.

The sight became clearer the closer he drew: the handicapped man had dug through all of the rubble he could to embrace his wife, repeatedly murmuring things only she could hear.

"John, Anna." Something tinged his breath when he realized both colleagues were alive. But it wasn't relief.

Relief wouldn't approach him until he found Elsie.

"I'm so sorry," The apologetic groan escaped Anna's lips, freezing his heart, the woman forcing her gaze to meet his. "I couldn't––"

She hissed from the movement, the sound sharp enough to remind Charles to reassure her.

"It's all right, Anna. You did what you could."

And he meant that. She may not believe him, she may not trust herself when it came to anything for quite some time, but he recognized that she had done her best to protect the others. He may not have witnessed any of it, but he knew Anna Bates. She wouldn't have done anything but her best, not when it came to this.

Glancing John over to make sure the man was truly all right, Charles continued to scout out the area –– his nerves tightening with every second he didn't spot _her_. "Can I leave you in charge of Anna, John?"

His colleague darkly snorted at this question before agreeing, eyes filled with a self-loathing that Charles didn't have the time to understand.

Returning Anna back to John's arms, making sure to gently move the woman so as to not disturb her any further. The last thing they needed right now was more injuries, more wasteful destruction.

Not when there were still bodies to find and an investigation to make.

"Dr. Carson."

He ignored the American calling out to him, hands beginning to tremble as his eyes scoured across the area. Whatever the patron had to say, it could wait until Elsie was found. And since there was only so much to investigate, he would find her soon enough. She might not be in the best shape, but he had to find her. There was no alternative.

"Dr. Carson."

It was with a sense of great dread that he approached what might have once been a privy. Now it was only the sight of a disgusting wreckage, blood seeping through the ruins. This looked to be the likeliest target for destruction and also the only clear spot a weakened body could be hiding. He didn't see anything to indicate whose blood it was, only that there was enough to signal at least one fatality.

"Dr. Carson!"

_Not now!_ Whatever Cora had to say it could bloody well wait! Right now, he only had eyes for detachedly sifting through the rubble, scouring through the destruction, fervently wishing that he wasn't about to discover the worst sight imaginable.

"Charles."

James Kent's dead body stared up at him, eviscerated so thoroughly he almost didn't recognize the man. A succor muddled through his disgust at the sight of such carnage, guilty comfort that clung against his throat and demanded he––

The paleobotanist had no desire to lose his stomach's contents. However, he appeared to have no control over the matter. Control barely slinked back into his grasp when it finally registered that Cora Crawley called him by his Christian name. That the woman was still staring at the ground, collapsed upon herself, only pushed all other thoughts away.

She wasn't indifferent.

She was in shock.

And he didn't want to know why.

"Charles," His spine tingled with dread at the sound as his feet found their way to her, the world shivering with regret long before this little journey ended. "Charles, they went over the edge."

_**No.** _

"Charles, we can't do anything."

He was shaking, trembling with disgust and outrage and horror and _guilt._ His world was convulsing in the apathy of the night. Whatever else she had to say was swept from him as the man stalked toward that edge she spoke of –– his body screaming for something other than this nightmare, nerves tightening endlessly the closer he got to his destination.

When Charles looks over the precipice, he's drowning in the shadows, the nauseating tilt of the reality. He can only see the wreckage of what was once a car, the very vehicle that was supposed to deliver her and everyone else back to safety. He has half a mind to take the frayed ropes for himself and confirm the truth –– to confirm everything Cora breathed to life, the certainty, the loss.

But there are no bodies.

No bodies from where he stands, no red lakes smeared against the moonlight.

Nothing except for an eviscerated vehicle and––

_._

"Sure, Beryl: be in charge of the rescue party. Make sure everyone comes back safely," The redhead was deeply unimpressed, "And how am I supposed to do that when _she's_ been injured, _she's_ in shock and _he's_ about to–– Charles Carson, don't even _think_ about jumping off that edge! It is _not_ worth it!"

_Of all the irresponsible, bullheaded––!_

Fortunately, Anna had already been set up in the back of the truck with John, the scientist cradling her as best he could in his arms. This not only helped to reassure the man everything was fine and keep his wife from being jostled too much, it also left everyone else enough space to fit into the damn vehicle.

Anyway, back to the idiotic scientist who looked prepared to recklessly dive into the darkness.

"Footprints." Dr. Carson muttered long before she put a hand on him, the woman rapidly pulling the deranged paleo-whatever-ist away from the edge. "Footprints."

Saving idiots from death was _not_ in her job description! And, even if it were, she wouldn't be getting paid nearly enough to deal with it!

"All righty, Charlie," Because maybe the use of incredibly casual language would shock him back to normal. "You need to quietly wait in the vehicle before I decide to tranquilize you––"

"There's footprints, Patmore!"

"That's nice. But there won't be any more footprints––" She blinked _,_ suddenly thinking him a little less deranged. "Whose footprints?"

Beryl only received a meaningful look of deep irritation, indicating that the answer should be obvious. Well then, he was getting shoved into the passenger seat for that cheek!

After ruthlessly depositing the hopeless man into his rightful seat, she double-backed for her boss: managing to lift Cora back up with little-to-no-effort. In half a minute she even managed to squish the shivering American in the back with Bates and Bates.

Really, the only spanner in the works this time was the sudden sound of a dinosaur romping about in the distance –– a bloody T-Rex if she had to guess.

Why the hell did she deserve this? Where did she go wrong in life?

Was she supposed to try out a life of cooking like she wanted to as a child? Or was it the ballet lessons her mum had tried to shove on her when being a game warden was first appealing?

Because, honestly, Beryl felt she would've taken cooking any day if that meant she didn't have to deal with all of this.

_._

Anna Bates was eternally grateful she hadn't died upon flying into that building. She was equally grateful that, if these were to be her last moments, she could spend them in John's arms.

What she wasn't quite so grateful for, not that she'd say as such at this particular juncture, was the fact that there was a rather large Tyrannosaurus Rex lumbering after them –– the beast primed to destroy its prey once and for all.

Her breath came in shuddering waves, panic constricting any sort of consistency. All she could do was catch any air she could when it was within her reach. That, and be a witness to the somewhat calm and collected conversation coming from the driver's area.

"CAN WE NOT TALK ABOUT THE BLOODY FOOTPRINTS, CHARLES CARSON?"

So much for calm and collected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who doesn't love Beryl Patmore?
> 
> On a more serious: if these last two chapters have been difficult to get through, I'm more than happy to see about weaving in any reader requests into future chapters in return. Honestly, either way, I'm applauding all of you who are continuing to read this –– it's a little more intense than I originally anticipated.
> 
> In any case, as always, have a lovely day and see you in 2-3 days!
> 
> (One of these chapters, it really will be two days and not three!)


	8. Of Tranquilizers and Ice Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up–– we've also got some angsty conversations, though it does get light. Also, for any Moseley, Edith, Cora, and Tom fans, there's more of their perspective in this!
> 
> Enjoy!

None of this was ideal. Not being lost without any signal, not losing any opportunity to literally call for help. Not witnessing Thomas Barrow try to be self-sacrificing by offering to stay behind so as to not get in the way –– his ankle injury causing the man enough pain he had to slow down considerably. Thankfully, that budding row hadn't ended as stupidly as it could've: Phyllis volunteered to stay behind, which still wasn't ideal but was better than the alternative. Still, it wasn't ideal.

But they couldn't help. They could only part ways, reluctantly in the case of Dr. Hughes and the children. Barrow and Baxter had been insistent this was necessary. The pair spoke of having great faith that everyone could make it to safety, however, this safety would only be the case if the group split up.

The argument wasn't enough to reassure anyone, but it had been agreed to. Quite honestly, that agreement might've only been due to Baxter having a map of the place, the same cartoonish illustration Dr. Hughes carried. Whatever the reason, they'd agreed to try two different paths –– routes that should lead back to the compound, routes that would deviate in nature if only to guarantee that one of the groups made it out alive.

And so they'd parted. Walked away from each other, the children and Dr. Hughes succumbing to the silence of a path untraveled whilst Barrow and Baxter trekked through an equally dangerous route.

Unfortunately for the children, there was now the sound of _something._ Something that was still far away, far enough to be indistinguishable. But something that was recognized as activity in the unknown, a tangible confirmation that they were not alone.

And soon enough, that group would be able to hear it for themselves.

_._

"Do you hear that?"

Because, unless Edith was mistaken, there was a roar somewhere in the distance. There was a roar which meant that there was something nearby which also meant that they were all _doomed_ –– she was sure of it.

"I didn't hear anything!" "What'd you hear, Edith?"

"Whatever it was, we're all right." Dr. Hughes reassured her little audience of three, her lilt soothing enough Edith could somewhat believe her. "It's much further than it seems."

That was something that the middle Crawley was having a hard time believing. There were so many things in the shadows, so much that creaked and rustled in the distance, it felt as though anything could suddenly come out of nowhere. But the problem was their fight with the T-Rex had left her more wobbly from exhaustion than anything else and definitely unable to defend against any other creatures.

"We ought to find somewhere to rest before anything crosses our paths." The strawberry blonde tiredly nodded at the paleontologist's statement, only beginning to panic when another roar sounded, this time closer than before. "Ready for another climb?"

"Yes!" "Obviously!"

But one child wasn't convinced: "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure, Edith. C'mon, I'll help you up."

Edith wasn't a climber, not normally. She liked creating her little stories, letting her imagination rise into the skies, not her hands. Hand her a computer over a tree any day or a writing pad, and she would be as happy as a clam.

As it was, climbing this tree was much harder than Dr. Hughes had made it look earlier when she'd gone to rescue the others out of the car. Edith never realized these muscles existed within her, needing more time than the others to ascend into the tree. Luckily, she had the paleontologist on her side –– the woman making sure she wasn't left behind.

Luckier still, they only had… about twenty more branches to climb. Well, luck did run out after a time, didn't it?

"Are you really sure about this, Dr. –– Elsie?" It was hard to remember the woman's request to keep going when the girl was still catching her breath. And she wouldn't dare take advantage of the privilege when the others were nearby, not wanting to seem stuck-up. But, here, when it was just the two of them aways from the others, she could speak like this.

"I am." The paleontologist's confidence gave Edith's lungs the energy they needed to keep going, a sense of purpose carrying the girl further and further into the branches.

Maybe this climbing thing wasn't so awful, after all.

With each step taken toward the skies, the girl found herself taking on a new rhythm. Eventually, she found herself able to work alongside the branches, traversing them with more skill than she expected. That she was doing this without Mama or Papa, that she actually _could_ reach literal heights, only gave her more confidence. She was even matching Sybil's pace now, not needing Dr. Hughes to help her.

And when she finally made it as far up as they dared, "It's _amazing_."

They weren't doomed at all.

"Look! Those are," Edith looked out toward where Tom was pointing, easily giving her gaze over to his perspective, "They're Brontosauruses!"

Unbeknownst to her, the boy had a motive behind pointing them out.

Feeling a little self-conscious about having thrown up in the car, realizing that his knowledge about dinosaurs was nothing like what the Crawley daughters knew, Tom wanted to show that he had learned something. And when he did recognize the beautiful dinosaurs in the distance, he couldn't help but point them out.

"Tom, they're actually called Brachiosauruses, not Brontosauruses." The boy hid back a blush at Edith's correction, hoping Sybil wouldn't think him stupid now that he'd messed up on something so simple.

"Actually, both names are acceptable." He shyly smiled at Dr. Hughes' remark, respectfully listening as she continued, "Personally, I prefer 'Brontosaurus' –– it means 'thunder lizard'."

"'Thunder lizard'?" "That's _so_ cool!" "Do you think Mary knows that one?"

"I don't know." The paleontologist honestly replied, not knowing if the eldest daughter would have already heard that fact. Somehow, she didn't see Mary Crawley caring enough the subject to know.

But before the subject could be further discussed, "Do you hear that?"

Edith tensed, quickly looking around from their vantage point to see what Sybil could be talking about. She might've been wrong about the not being doomed part.

"Is that _singing_?" She turned in the direction Tom was staring, soon realizing that it was the dinosaurs. "Yeah, they're really singing!"

"Are they now?" Elsie turned, straining her ears to listen. It turned out that the children were right: there was some sort of "singing" going on.

However, the scientist had the feeling this sound was more of a mating call than anything else. Which was a thought that might've taken her down a risqué path, except for one pertinent question:

Why on earth would there be any sort of mating call if this were an all-female environment?

But before she could think to mention it to the children, "Do you think they'll come near us?"

"It's all right, Edith, they're all herbivores!"

"Which means they only eat vegetables. Right, Dr. Hughes?"

"That's right."

"So, it's okay, Edith. Really."

Tom and Sybil made a surprisingly good team in Elsie's eyes. In fact, their capability to work together reminded her of another good team –– her own team. Of course, thinking of them all led her to wonder how all of her colleagues were faring. Letting Phyllis stay behind with Thomas had been hard enough, the woman still regretting that decision, but she didn't know if Anna or John survived their encounter with the T-Rex. Moseley, too, might've had something happen to him after they all parted ways near the Triceratops.

And, of course, she didn't even want to contemplate what might've happened to Charles throughout all of this.

"Dr. Hughes," Tom was speaking up, distracting her from those darker thoughts, 'What are you going to do if you don't get to dig up any more dinosaur bones?"

Although that question seemed to have come out of nowhere, she'd become accustomed to how children tended to do that. It was a quality that, in her eyes, could make the world a more honest and forthcoming place if used more often. If people didn't carry such a build-up to their questions, it might be easier for others to answer them. And if others made inquiries as lightly as children did, perhaps there'd be less pressure for the "right" answer.

"I suppose we'll have to evolve, too." They all grew silent at this, unsure of how to respond. She herself didn't know how life would be if she truly did lose this job. But if Elsie had learned one thing over these twenty-four hours, it was that she would take losing the job over losing Charles.

However, before the mood could become too fraught with bewildered regret, there was someone setting out to brighten it, "So, what do you call a blind dinosaur?"

Elsie looked at Sybil, curious as to where this joke would go. "I'm not sure. What do you call a blind dinosaur?"

"A 'do-you-think-he-saurus'." Snickers and chuckles broke out, the tension cracking just a bit. For Tom, Sybil could always make him laugh. For Edith, that sort of humour was a personal favourite. And for Elsie, she could only imagine how unimpressed Charles would be with it –– the image endearing enough to coax amusement.

But Sybil wasn't finished, "What do you call a blind dinosaur's dog?"

"What do you think, Edith?"

"I don't know." The girl honestly admitted, a smile poking through her tentative gaze.

"A 'do-you-think-he-saurus Rex'." This got proper laughter, a sense of ease taking over everyone as further jokes quietly sprang to life –– each as terrible and funny as the next. Though, eventually, jokes turned to questions:

"Do you think, when we get back, we might be able to have some ice cream?"

Elsie smiled at the honest question, enjoying the straightforward priorities of children. It made for a wonderful change.

"I think that can be arranged."

And she would make sure of it.

_._

The moment she could Cora Crawley holed herself away from the world, taking a morose claim of a table in the restaurant. With almost all her daughters lost to them, she couldn't face the others, needing some time alone. The possibility of survival aside –– thanks to Dr. Carson's spotting those footprints –– she couldn't stand being near anyone else, not when there was so much uncertainty.

Of course, she never could turn him away.

Depositing the bucket of ice cream beside his wife, knowing it to be her favourite flavour, Robert Crawley took a seat and quietly offered a bowl. Cora grimly looked at him and the delicacy, nearly flinching at the sight. How could they indulge in ice cream at a time like this?

"Should we really spend our time with that?"

"It's either that or watch it melt away." The American didn't know where this calm tone was coming from. How was Robert able to be so at ease when there was no guarantee whatsoever of Edith and Sybil's safety? When she herself saw the doctor drop out of sight, her second daughter disappearing with her, reassurance had deserted her. And when that damn car drop over the precipice, flung as though it were a cheap toy, that had quashed any optimism!

"Can we really _spare_ _the expense?_ " Cora coldly asked, unconvinced.

The flat joke only had him crumble, an unavoidable truth stumbling forth, "Cora, there's something I need to tell you."

She sighed, having a feeling she knew exactly what her husband was about to inform her of.

"Robert," The man looked up, not sure as to why she remained this indifferent to his concerns –– considering they involved their finances. Little did he know, she already knew and didn't give a damn about finances, not when their daughters were still missing. "If it's about the money we've lost this last year, your failed investments, I know everything."

"Do you really?"

Cora didn't scoff in disbelief at his incredulity, though she had half a mind to. Much as her husband wanted to shield her from everything he could, only wanting the best for her, she could read a financial report. She did understand that his own private investments, investments to ensure they really could spare no expense, had failed time and time again.

"I do." She repeated firmly and watched on as he stared, his bulging disbelief only growing, "I've just been waiting for you to tell me."

"You have?"

"Yes." Really, this shouldn't have been as amusing as it was becoming. Truthfully, it wasn't. But rarely did her husband emulate a codfish. So it was something. "I've already started to use some of my own inheritance to find some other investments," _Legitimate investments, for one._ Though she'd never say it like that to him, not even now. "And, they're already beginning to pay off."

Robert looked so close to breaking, to finally giving up on his resolve to be the one that fixed everything. In reality, she didn't need him to be strong or to keep calm and carry on. She only needed him to be her partner.

That and help her rescue her damn children.

Because Dr. Carson hadn't seen anything more than footprints. He hadn't seen any bodies crashed into the ground. He'd only saw footprints –– the conclusion being that the others still had a fighting chance.

But that was only if they acted sooner rather than later!

"Is that ice cream?" Rolling her eyes at Joseph Moseley's poor timing, the American turned around with a frosty smile, "Oh! Sorry–– I'll come back later,"

"No, come on." Her husband's voice was gruff, filled with more emotion than Cora had witnessed in quite some time. Now was clearly not the time to demand they plan a rescue, not when he was like that. "It'll all melt away if we don't take care of it now."

Well, Robert did have a point.

Even if she really didn't care.

Moseley apparently needed no further encouragement, quietly ducking out only to grab a spare bowl and spoon. However, though the married couple didn't see it, the man was not himself. His jovial air was faltering in wake of today's discoveries –– a depressed curiosity threading into his gait, a haunted look slipping into his demeanour even as he helped to take down some of the ice cream.

"How's Anna?"

"She's doing all right. We gave her a shot of morphine." The scientist just wished that they could confirm what happened to the others. That he didn't have to wonder, that he hadn't helped Dr. Carson with the Triceratops but had stayed with the others instead.

"They'll all be fine. Who better to get the children through Jurassic Park than dinosaur experts?" _That's if they're still alive._ But Joseph wasn't going to say that. He couldn't even think about the idea of they're not being alive, not if he wanted to keep his sanity.

"Did we tell you about the first attraction we ever built after we married?" For once, the scientist really didn't care about learning more about others. He only wanted to go out and find Phyllis –– tired of being sequestered to the side.

After checking to see if Anna and John were all right, he'd been very close to doing something useful. Maybe help with the park's technology, even though he'd never touched it before. Perhaps see if he could help debug that code. Dr. Carson only had to send him one foreboding look, the unspoken instruction to refrain from offering assistance ringing loud and clear –– just like before.

Before this, he was being sent on what had to have been a fool's errand.

Joseph had been told to see if anyone was still remaining at the lab they'd visited and see if there was any chance of conferring with the park's experts. There hadn't been any experts left, everyone having already made their way to the boats. Something that he should've guessed long before he left for that goose chase, feeling quite the idiot. That feeling only worsened when he'd come back to the main control room, only to discover Dr. Carson and Beryl Patmore had already left to rescue the others without bothering to tell him.

Seeing as how he couldn't just take a car and go after them, having no idea where they might have ended up. It had to be the most irritating thing in the world, waiting like a lost child when all of his friends were in grave danger, but that was what he'd been doing. Then, once the others came back, he'd been sent away before he could do anything tangible –– being told that he wasn't needed when it came to helping Anna and John. He could witness the morphine shot, could see that the pair was being taken care of, but that was it.

And now he was stuck in a conversation he didn't really care about, staring down into a bowl of ice cream he didn't really want to eat, and humouring two people he wished had left them all alone.

Cora smiled at her husband's question, oblivious to Joseph's internal debate. She didn't notice his growing wariness, his continued looks toward the exit. Instead, she dutifully recalled the answer to Robert's question, knowing that he needed to indulge before she could request any sort of rescue. "The first attraction we ever built was a Flea Circus."

"That's nice," _But––_

"Despite the name, it was really quite wonderful." Moseley didn't really have the energy to nod, only resigning himself to this discussion. "We had a trapeze, a roundabout, and a seesaw."

"You've upgraded since," The scientist couldn't help but point out, kicking himself for continuing the conversation. How was he supposed to get away from them if he kept speaking up?

"Of course! Only the finest for our exhibits." _Of course it was._ "It was all motorized, of course, but people would swear they could actually see the fleas."

Robert continued, sounding almost proud of it all, "Clown fleas, high wire fleas, fleas on parade…"

Frankly, the disenchanted man was convinced they should've stuck to fleas.

"But with this, we wanted to show them something real," Memory spilled into her words, memory and a tainted sentiment of something he had no interest in figuring out, "Something that wasn't an illusion, something they could see and touch."

This was all breaking his resolve to remain composed faster than any Raptor ever could. He didn't know why he couldn't just shut up and quietly listen to them. It was what was typically expected of him in life, but it wasn't happening today.

"An aim devoid of merit." Robert finished his wife's sentence, exchanging another look with the woman. As though this were all some grand conquest that didn't risk human lives. As though this park were a noble symbol, justifying all of what happened today.

Their ignorance only made Joseph angry.

"And at what cost is this aim worth?"

"It's not." She was cold, accepting, defeated. She now realized the truth. "It's not worth it."

"Yes, Cora's right." He was much further from reality. "Hiring O'Brien was a mistake, that's obvious now. We're also too dependent on automation, I can see that––"

"Robert!" "Mr. Crawley!"

The patron gave them a deadened stare, revealing just how desperate he was to make this all work out. Needless to say, Joseph could no longer pretend to be interested, apathetic to the man's regret when it cost everyone so much. "Mr. Crawley, this isn't your Flea Circus and it's _stupid_ to think otherwise!"

"Mr. Mos–– Joseph, while I agree they're completely different, I hardly believe we need to speak like that!"

"I'm not sorry for stating my opinion, Mrs. Crawley. I know there are better ways of saying it, but it's the truth."

Robert was slipping back into the conversation, adamant, "Well, that's where you're wrong. When we have control again––"

"Control?" Joseph barked out a mirthless laugh, the hollow sound reverberating. "You never had control! If you did we wouldn't be here, now would we? We wouldn't've–– Phyllis wouldn't be––"

He was perilously close to falling apart, grasping for anything he could take to stay afloat. Falling apart wouldn't save anyone, it wouldn't change a bloody thing. He'd been stupid enough to get separated from her and everyone else, he'd been idiotic when it came to the lab, and the only way he could redeem himself was to keep it together for as long as he could.

"I admit now," The discomfort, the pain, was finally numbing him to anxiety –– proving it easy to detachedly step back and point out his failings, "I was overwhelmed by the power of this place. I made a mistake with this, too. I didn't understand the power here, didn't respect it, and now I'm paying the price. We're all paying the price."

They were finally listening.

Someone was finally listening to him, someone other than the one woman who always did.

And he wasn't done, not by a long shot.

"But you know what the worst part is? The worst part is that you two are _happy_ to pick up the pieces, try to patch it up when _none of it_ is worth it." A shuddering breath overtook him, demanding he let an intoxicating fear take over again. But the scientist would finish saying his bit with as much dignity as possible. "The only thing that matters now are–– are the people we love."

Joseph couldn't stay here any longer. Couldn't sit and chat the night away with melted ice cream, not when there was so much still at stake.

Not when she was still out there.

_._

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Phyllis didn't like to see anyone suffer and Thomas Barrow was no exception. A torn ankle ligament –– something she'd once heard of as the "paper cut" of ankle injuries –– was not to be taken lightly, not here.

Which meant that she was all for helping any way she could.

"Just talk." The chaotician flatly told her, needing the reassuring cadence of conversation by his side. He would take drivel, rants, babbling, anything that took away the fire that gripped his ankle with every step.

"Anything in particular?"

"Anything except for a confession of your undying love for that Moseley character." Thomas snarked, prompting her to quietly laugh. But now she was curious as to his own undying love, if he ever felt that way for someone. She wondered why he settled for flirting with Jimmy, if there'd once been someone else. Mind, she wouldn't ask. She never liked forcing people to confide in her, finding it never as fulfilling as when they did of their volition.

Of course, sensing what rested in her mind, the man fell into a contemplative silence. He thought about the observations he'd made of her throughout the day, the little insights many of other old colleagues might've dismissed. How she had made an active effort to understand his theories, how she hadn't thought him stupid for his thoughts or his attitude toward life. Out of all the paleontologists, she had been the kindest by far. She could probably be given this confession.

They'd probably be dead by morning, anyway.

"There was someone once. Someone I trusted, someone I lov–– someone I was myself with." That was all he could say right now, all he wanted to give away.

The chaotician continued to trudge along, hissing with every wrong movement, every bad angle. She kept her hold on him, scanning their surroundings for any sort of sanctuary –– something that would allow them to have a respite.

"Sounds like quite the person."

"Turns out, they actually weren't." Phyllis winced at the unspoken grief in those terse words, grief that didn't come from a torn ankle ligament but from something far more traumatic. "In fact, they even tried to blackmail me –– get me kicked out of the academic community I'd started in."

"No!" She muttered in disbelief, never understanding why people thought they needed to act that way. That they were so afraid and insecure they'd lash out toward any they could, relying on others' failings to give themselves a false success.

"He'd only done it all for himself, he didn't ever care about me." Thomas darkly confessed, the memory lingering after all this time. "I see that now, though it took me a long time."

"I can only imagine." Phyllis had her own dark moments, her burdens from the past that still clutched her today. But she would take her demons over that any day. "May I ask what happened?"

"Fine. But you owe me after this. I want to hear all about your stuff, too. There has to be something." She gave a faint chuckle at this, finding the unusual trade-off to be fair.

Chances were, they weren't making it out.

"Turns out, the chaos community is a lot kinder than I expected." _So, that's why you're where you are._ "And, a word to the wise: never try to blackmail the blackmailer. Just doesn't work."

Phyllis nodded, content to keep her silence.

"That sort of stuff just doesn't work out in general, no matter what you may think." He turned, noting her confusion and beginning to clarity, "'Love', that is."

"Now, _that_ I refuse to believe."

He shot her a look, " _That's_ what you're gonna protest? Even with the things being the way they are for you?"

So, at the very least, Thomas had figured out her feelings for Joseph. Maybe he saw what she herself did: a relationship that would become unrequited if it was pushed past friendship. Maybe he thought them both idiots for trying in the first place or something else altogether.

Still, whatever he thought, she couldn't let that be the end of this conversation: "It may not work out the way we want it, but things have a way of working out in the end."

He scoffed, "What're you, a therapy poster?"

She rolled her eyes at him, the action prompting more laughter than anything else.

"Quite the _mature_ paleontologist, aren't you?"

"The mature paleontologist who's found an easy tree for us to climb? Why, yes, that's me."

Thomas winced at the proposition of more climbing, seeing as how that'd started this mess. "I don't know if climbing's the best thing for me. We're probably better off taking our chances making it back to the compound?"

"No."

That she offered no further elaboration, the one word being the bluntest she'd been around him, shut him up.

Or, more accurately, it shut him up for about six seconds.

"When they find us tomorrow, having fallen to our deaths in the night, I'll be sure to thank you." She snorted at the sentiment, the noise enough to distract Thomas from his self-fulfilling prophecy.

"That's not going to be what happens and you know it." Baxter was beginning to lose her patience, much as she didn't want to. But the moment her patience started to thin, Joseph came to mind and she could grip serenity once again. "I'm sure they're figuring out a search party as we speak."

"Yeah, right."

Okay. Phyllis Baxter liked to be a nice person, striving to carry kindness into the world. She felt that everyone really did have at least one redeemable characteristic, that they could make a wonderful difference in the world, that there was no reason to be cruel toward others.

She still had the urge to punch Thomas Barrow. It was undoubtedly the most atypical feeling she'd experienced in years, but it was true. Because he was wrong. There would be a search party coming for them.

There just had to be.

_._

He had snuck away from the others when they were sufficiently distracted, taking no chances when it came to being discovered. He hadn't said a word to anyone, not even Mary Crawley, much too determined to let nothing stand in the way of this.

One of the back-up Jeeps, gas-powered much like the one that'd taken him back to this wretched compound, cheerfully waited for the paleobotanist. Fully gassed up, all that was necessary now was retrieving the keys to the bloody thing.

Then and only then could he go after Elsie.

"Looking for these?"

Disdain flooded him at the sound of Beryl Patmore's knowing voice, Charles Carson clumsily pivoting around to face the game warden. If this woman was going to obstinately get in the way of his plan, he would be forced to take drastic measures. He didn't really know what those measures would be, exactly. But, mark his words, they would certainly be drastic!

"Miss Pat––" It seemed she didn't take well to being called that, the keys disappearing into one of her pockets in a huffy manner. "Beryl."

"Yes, Dr. Carson?"

_Stop being ridiculous and let me go after them!_ Much as he wanted to shout and demand she hand the keys over, Charles knew that attitude wouldn't get him anywhere. Shouting never worked, it only did the opposite of what he wanted –– Elsie taught him that one.

"Please," Patmore tilted her head curiously at the plea, intrigued enough to hear him out. He continued, "You know as well as I that the longer they stay out there, the less likely it'll be that they survive."

"Dr. Carson,"

He wasn't done with his speech, knowing from her posture alone that the woman remained thoroughly unconvinced: "You can come with me. We can even take a wireless radio so the others know where we are."

"Dr. Carson, I'm gonna stop you right there." Because Beryl Patmore found this to be endearing for only the first three seconds. After that, it'd become damn irresponsible. "You know as well as I do that, with the fences down, everything's loose."

"Yes, but––"

"Which means that nothing's off limits out there."

"Of course, however––"

"Which _also_ means that, seeing as how we've not a clue where they are, we'd be scouring the park with no idea where the hell to go. So, not only would we be facing these bloody creatures without back-up, in the middle of a very dangerous storm, they might all already be dead!"

"We don't know that!" Patmore knew he didn't want to hear that. But if the man was going to be this stupid, she had to be equally blunt. "We don't know anything and if we could only start a search tonight––"

"Dr. Carson, if you take one more step toward that vehicle, I will be forced to tranquilize you." Glaring him down with everything she had, needing him to understand the severity of the situation, "We can start a rescue party in the morning, once the storm's passed and it's been deemed safe."

"But––"

"If they've made it to tonight, they're fine." _And if your colleague's half as stubborn as you are, they've made it to tonight._ "Now, will you shut up and come with me? Or are we going to have to do this the hard way?"

The man glowered at her, deeply unimpressed by the ultimatum. Beryl didn't care, having faced far more intimidating things than Charles Carson hellbent on rescuing his friend-lover-colleague-whatever-the-hell-they-were.

"I will only agree to this if you promise that we will begin the search first thing in the morning."

The game warden could say yes to that, with one amendment: "We can start as soon as it's safe. Who knows what'll be happening first thing in the morning."

"No." Seriously, he was beginning to get on her nerves. " _Only_ if it's first thing in the morning."

"Fine." Patmore lied, having no qualms about being dishonest if it saved lives.

Frankly, she still might tranquilize him.

_._

It turns out, children could readily fall asleep. They didn't need much coaxing, the ease with which they dropped off into dreamland making Elsie Hughes nearly paranoid they'd somehow been tranquilized by a predator of sorts –– tricked into slumber so to become helpless prey.

Of course, that was only the terror of the park finally making an official claim on her sanity, the scientist being pushed much further than she'd ever dreamt possible. They were all as safe as they could be, this high up in the tree. It was much too high for a T-Rex to come barreling through, much too difficult for a pack of Raptors to descend upon them. And there hadn't been anything else they'd crossed paths with that was as threatening.

Moreover, as she very well knew, there were no tranquilizers in sight. Not that she wouldn't have objected to one being around. Despite the growing sleep-deprivation of the weekend, the woman knew she wouldn't be able to rest. Not until they made it through this alive.

"But we _are_ safe." Elsie muttered to herself, making sure not to wake the others, needing to remind herself that they were not currently in danger. That it wasn't foolhardy to take a chance with letting the children rest in this tree, that they were wise to wait until at least daybreak before continuing this journey.

When she had finally been able to convince herself of these facts, she allowed herself to remove a certain fossil from her pocket –– the very sight of the claw giving her a strength she desperately needed. The claw also came with the reminder that he was nowhere near, that she had so much she needed to say and do, that this was all so far from being over.

"Dr. Hughes," The woman should have known that Sybil wouldn't be able to drift off to dreamland. "Why did you stop holding Dr. Carson's hand?"

_That_ had been one of the last questions she'd expected. Caught off-guard by the inquiry, the woman automatically deflected.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Sybil. And, please, it's Elsie."

"But I saw it, Dr. Hughes," The girl was insistent on all fronts, that was for sure. "When we were in the car, I _saw_ you holding hands."

The paleontologist never cared for lying to children nor for lying in general. Dishonesty was a waste of time, only creating an unnecessary lack of faith in others. The problem was, she didn't know what to say. What was appropriate? _The truth is, Sybil, I'm an idiot who didn't realize what she almost had until now._ Better yet, _actually, now that you mention it, I stopped holding hands because I now know he can't possibly want that. And it was silly of me to think otherwise._

Okay. Now she was merely being overly melodramatic –– another quality the woman never cared for. Better to set that all aside and just speak honestly about the matter.

"I suppose it didn't feel right." Elsie couldn't tell how close to the truth that remark was. Frankly, she couldn't tell what on earth the truth really was in this moment.

"It didn't? But you both looked so happy!"

"Sybil," She'd remembered very well how Charles had stiffened, the man too revulsed to say a word. "I hardly think Dr. Carson was happy to––"

"I know what I saw," Sybil informed her with the straightforward confidence only children seemed to hold, "And Dr. Carson was happy. A little scared, I think, but really, _really_ happy."

Elsie faintly smiled to herself, resisting the urge to shake her head in disbelief at the child's statement. Sybil was as likely to change her opinion as the paleontologist was likely to change careers.

Her conviction was, oddly enough, refreshing.

Silence eventually came back with this lull in conversation, the type that almost pushed her into troubled sleep before she realized what was happening. Exhaustion continued to descend upon them without hesitation, blanketing the air with a placid hush that couldn't guarantee rest no matter what it promised.

"Dr. Hughes, what if the dinosaurs come back while we're all asleep?"

So much for sleep. Mind, the interruption made one thing clear:

For all of her bravado and confidence, Sybil was scared just like everyone else.

However, although Elsie was as scared as the girl, she also had no intention of letting anything else happen. Not now, not when they'd been through so much.

"I'll stay awake."

"All night?"

"All night."

And she would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much like our adventurers, make sure to get some rest if and when you can! It's certainly quite the time to be alive.
> 
> In any case, as always, I hope you enjoyed that and have a lovely day! Cya in 2-3 days!


	9. A Hard Reset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** We're only a little ways from the finale of the piece! Isn't it exciting?
> 
> Also, just a note: some of the characters will have more negative opinions toward dinosaurs now. Whatever they say (and however they describe the dinosaurs) is not a reflection of my own opinion.
> 
> **Technical Reading Note:** If " _A quotation shows up like this,"_ it only means that someone is talking via a walkie talkie, a phone, etc.

When the sun tickled her into waking up, Sybil couldn't help but smile as she realized they were still safe. And now that she could see it all, she could admit it: this was one of the most beautiful places she'd ever been to! Mama had once compared the park to the Serengeti Plain, but she felt that was a lackluster description for what lay before her.

A weighty sense of darkness overtook the beauty, shadows entwining foliage. The youngest Crawley daughter shivered at the sensation, her mouth gaping at the sight of the brachiosaur's head nudging itself through the tree branches. She felt Dr. Hughes tense protectively –– the woman really had stayed up the whole night, just as she promised –– and looked ready to shelter the children any way she could.

The creature only chomped on a branch above their heads, uninterested in anything else.

Edith woke up with a gasp, Tom with a yelp. Sybil only quietly giggled to herself, still assured all was well.

"Go away!" The strawberry blonde was taking no chances, not after everything. "Dr. Hughes, make it go away!"

"It's all right, Edith!" The scientist knew it would do no good to let fear take over, "It's only a brachiosaur."

When that didn't seem to reach the girl, Sybil swiftly chimed in: "It's a veggiesaurus, Edith! It won't eat us!"

However, the girl was adamant about her survival, scurrying as far away from the dinosaur's mouth as she could. Tom and Sybil, on the other end of the panic spectrum, were trying to coax it into coming closer –– using a loose branch as motivation.

The Brachiosaur honked at them, defiantly unimpressed.

The two remained undeterred.

"Do you really believe you ought to be playing such games?" Yes, the Brachiosaur wasn't interested in eating them –– a "veggiesaurus", as Sybil eloquently reminded them. However, for some peculiar reason, Dr. Hughes was rather disinterested in needlessly provoking animals from the Jurassic Period.

"But, look," Somehow, Sybil had managed to convince the dinosaur to come closer, the creature curious. "She's letting me pet her."

It was true: the child was indeed petting her, successfully at that. The action was enough to convince Dr. Hughes to ease up her guard just a bit.

And, despite her hesitation, Edith looked to be gradually intrigued.

The whole experience would have worked out wonderfully –– if not for the strawberry blonde being sneezed on once she tried to pet the Brachiosaur herself. That accident ceased any further, everyone quickly deciding that the best course of action was to descend the tree and continue the journey back in silence.

Of course, silence never lasted for long with children: "Edith––"

"Please, don't say anything." The girl was furiously trying to wipe the mucus off in vain, thoroughly disgusted. "I'm a writer, and only a writer would suffer like this."

"I'm sure that's not true!" Her sister interjected, never one for a pessimistic attitude. "Besides, you're a writer _and_ a hacker! That has to count for something."

"'A hacker'?" Sybil turned to the paleontologist, eagerly nodding in her sister's stead. "My, my."

"Not 'hacking, exactly," The middle daughter tried to deny, "I think people would consider me more of a 'nerd' than anything else."

Elsie nodded to herself, curious as to the details of what that all meant. But before she could ask any further questions, her eyes caught something that shouldn't have been there, not if the park's scientists were right.

"Now then," She murmured to herself, kneeling to examine this peculiar find. "This _is_ fascinating."

"What's fascinating, Dr. Hughes?" It seemed the children had not caught sight of the anomaly, peering around the landscape. "What is it?"

"I don't suppose they've an explanation for this." Gesturing to the object in question, a certain look in her eyes. "That's a dinosaur egg."

_Which means they really have been breeding in the park._

"But, Papa said all the dinosaurs were girls." That may be the man's opinion, but it was only an opinion. In fact, the more she thought it all through, the more the whole matter became clear.

This had to have been due to the park's usage of amphibian DNA.

It was certainly possible that amphibian DNA was the cause behind this surprise, given that there have been cases of West African frogs spontaneously changing sex –– something that remained true in a single-sex environment. Truly, as Elsie continued to elaborate these thoughts to the children, she couldn't help but realize that Thomas Barrow had been proven correct.

Life had truly found a way.

_._

The time was now long past "first thing in the morning", a fact that Charles persisted in pointing out to the woman. Every couple of minutes, he would shoot a knowing look at the game warden in question –– his message obvious. She was doing her best to tune him out, blatantly focused on crisis management.

Really, having everyone in the control room was lunacy at its finest.

"No, no, _no_ , that's crazy! He's absolutely out of his mind!" Vexed that his boss was asking this ridiculous task of him, Ray had no problem stating his opinion.

"What's going on exactly?" Moseley asked, looking a bit more like himself. He continued to look paler than normal, definitely remaining haunted by yesterday's events. But he was also obstinately focused on making a difference –– knowing fully well he wouldn't be entrusted with anything if he lost his composure.

"We're talking about a calculated risk." Robert declared, taking full control of the situation, despite his wife's clear reluctance. "We'll never find the command O'Brien used, she's done that job too well and it's obvious she's not coming back. Therefore, shutting down the system––"

"Something you're gonna have to get someone else to do, because I refuse to!"

"Shutting down the system," The patron firmly repeated, "Is the only way to guarantee wiping out everything she did."

"But, Robert," The American was trying to reason with her husband, having been doing so for the last hour, "Surely there's another way?"

"There's no time!" The harsh statement brought an end to the protests, the man's facade near the brink of crumbling. But something was changing within Mr. Crawley, something that had him grasping control once more. "If I understand correctly, all the systems will come back on set to their start-up modes, correct?"

"Theoretically, yeah." It wasn't a good enough theory in the eyes of the technician. "But we've never shut down the whole system. It may not come back at all."

"Would we at least obtain a signal again? Would phones come back?" Charles had only inserted himself into this conversation to only to see if there was any hope for the others –– if not also have a chance to ring for emergency support. If anyone still had a mobile, it certainly had no battery left.

"Once again, Dr. Carson, in theory. But––"

Bird seemed to have a different theory in mind, finding Crawley's plan to be much too risky: "What about the lysine contingency? We could put that into effect easily enough!"

"Lysine contingency?" "What's that?"

"Absolutely out of the question."

"Robert," But Cora couldn't reach her husband, the man determined that this was the right way, he only needed to give the others more time to understand.

"What exactly is the lysine contingency?" Joseph put the inquiry fourth with little hesitation, willing to sound like an idiot if it got him answers.

"The lysine contingency is intended to prevent the spread of the animals in case they ever got off the island, but we could use it now." Patmore eyed them all, personally unsure of how effective it'd be.

Ray continued, filling in the rest of the cracks: "Dr. Wu inserted a gene that makes a single faulty enzyme in the protein metabolism. Animals can't manufacture the amino acid lysine. So, unless they're continually supplied with lysine by us, they'll go into a coma and die?"

"How would we cut off the lysine?" They were seriously considering the matter, there was no doubt about it.

"There's no trick to it. All you'd have to do is stop the program and leave them unattended."

"And how soon before they become comatose?" John Bates asked, suspecting this was far too easy a solution. Considering their luck, there had to be some unknown factor that would null and void this chance for hope.

Ray deflected, "It would be totally painless: they'd just slip into unconsciousness and then die."

"How soon before they become comatose, Mr. Arnold?" Anna repeated her husband's question, her injuries from yesterday not getting in the way of surviving today.

He really didn't like what he had to tell them. In fact, the man had become so taciturn Cora had taken it upon herself to answer instead, "It would take about seven days, Anna."

"More or less."

"'Seven days'?" "You're joking!" "How _clever_."

"It's a last resort that we've never wanted to use," Personally, Cora never thought she'd feel comfortable about the lysine contingency. That is, until Edith and Sybil went missing. Now, she felt a sense of revulsion with what they'd created, completely disenchanted. "However, if needs must."

Whether any of these plans went through or not, Charles felt that another rescue party needed to be formed. This lysine contingency was as liable to work as the half-baked scheme about shutting the park down. And considering that none of those efforts factored in a second search for the others, he was only seconds away from making his own suggestion about the situation.

Pandemonium broke out before he could say another word.

Everyone, it seemed, has a suggestion, argument, or criticism over these two plans. And if it was not one of those, it was a complaint brought on by fear –– something that only served to cripple the atmosphere of the room.

"Do none of you understand that _people are dying?_ " Robert Crawley was the first person to truly be heard by each and every soul in the room, his authority breaking through and finally garnering all attention. "Do you not recognize that there really are _no alternatives_."

And when that finally seemed to reach the crowd, he only had one request left.

"Ray, will you _please_ shut down the system?"

Ray swallowed his instinctual disagreement back, slowly resigning himself to this fate. "All right. If that's what you really want."

"It really is."

Every individual in the room watched with rapt focus as the man slowly made his way across the room to a red metal box on the wall. All eyes stared as he took a key from his belt, unlocking and opening the door with the air of someone who knew the ending to this story.

There was a row of four switches inside, the four switches that held almost all control over the park. Hesitating for only a second, Ray flipped them off in quick succession, each click of the switch echoing throughout the room. But that was not the end of this task.

A lever waited for him, one that would do exactly as Robert Crawley demanded.

Ray put a hand on the lever, giving the Crawleys one last chance to say no. Cora looked as though she dreaded every part of this, but would still refrain from giving him a way out. Robert only firmly nodded, watching as the technician did as instructed.

When nothing changed, Joseph couldn't help himself this time: "How long is this supposed to take?"

"About thirty seconds." Bird coldly informed him, thinking it all a grave mistake.

And when thirty seconds came and went, Ray meticulously flicked the row of safety switches once more before turning to the main switch. He didn't offer them any comfort or reassurance, only performing his job and praying it would all work out.

Nothing happened.

Deeply upset with the matter, Charles turned toward Patmore –– scowling at the woman. This exercise in futility may have been more bearable if they'd found the others last night as he intended, but _someone_ had been intolerably stubborn about waiting until the morning.

"Wait––" The technician had returned to the main monitor, triumph beginning to ring through his voice as a beam of satisfaction overtook him, "It's on! It worked!"

"What do you mean?" "But everything's still off!" "How could it have possibly worked if nothing's changed?"

The technician was undeterred by the confusion, explaining: "The shutdown must have tripped the circuit breakers. All we have to do is turn them back on, reboot a few systems –– phones, security doors, and others, of course –– but it worked! The system is ready!"

"And just where are these breakers?"

"Out in the maintenance shed. It's on the other side of the compound. I'll go out there."

Charles had moved past scowling –– he was glaring at the game warden, fully cognizant of the fact that if Ray was allowed to do this, they should've been long gone. "Three minutes, and I can have the power back on in the entire park."

Which didn't mean anything for anything that'd escaped its confines. But it was still something.

"Just to be safe," Cora began to instruct them all, not interested in letting her husband have too much reign during this emergency. Much like their finances, Robert could only be trusted with so much. "We ought to have everyone in the emergency bunker until Mr. Arnold returns and the whole system is back on its feet again."

"But––"

"No 'but's, Dr. Carson," Patmore interrupted, starting to single-handedly frog march him in the direction of the emergency bunker as Bird took care of maneuvering Anna toward safety, John and Cora nearby to assist.

As for Mary and Matthew?

The two children had remained surprisingly quiet, not saying a single word in the course of this entire conversation. They'd been entirely respectful, having made an agreement last night to do as such, no matter how much they wanted to protest the situation.

After all, how could they mount a secret rescue for Sybil and the others if it seemed they needed close supervision?

_._

"If we get out of here alive," Which, somehow, Thomas was beginning to believe, as impossible as it seemed. "You're never mentioning last night's conversation to anyone."

They'd had much to exchange over the course of the evening, the speaking topics diverse. They had exchanged demons, theories for their respective fields, and he'd even managed to get her genuine opinion on everyone involved in this trip.

"Of course," Phyllis couldn't help but smile at the request, knowing that a great deal of trust had been placed in her these last twelve hours. It was almost endearing to make her forget about her worries, to quell her fear about Joseph and what'd happened to him.

The key word in that particular cluster being "almost".

_._

"Dr. Hughes, I'm tired. Can we take a break?" "I'm hungry, Dr. Hughes. Do you know how far we are?" "When we get back, Dr. Hughes…"

Really, one would think they'd hadn't been chased around by some of the fiercest creatures on the planet, what with how calmly the children seemed to be taking their situation. They may have been knackered and frightened beyond belief, but they still focused only on needs such as food and not safety.

"The visitor's center should only be a mile beyond that rise." Hopefully her map was as accurate as it claimed. "If we keep––"

Really. By this point, she needed to keep quiet and stop jinxing their luck.

"What's that?" "Dr. Hughes?"

"Right. Who knows what that is?"

The herd of Gallimimus was swiftly darting past them, there was no threat of being seen.

"Are they Gallimimi–– Gallimimus?" Elsie would've been pleased that Tom corrected himself.

That is, she would have been pleased if not for the fact that the herd just so happened to have changed course. That is to really say, she would have been pleased if not for the decidedly unpleasant fact that the herd just so happened to now be straight toward them.

_._

Something was wrong.

It'd been longer than three minutes and Ray hadn't called in.

"This is just a delay, that's all." Or so Robert Crawley was content to tell himself. "All major theme parks have had delays. Disneyland in 1956, for instance, hadn't worked at all in the beginning.

"But if Pirates of the Caribbean breaks down," John began to point out, not in the mood to pretend things were fine. "The pirates don't eat the tourists."

Well, Charles refused to wait around any longer. Yes, he had concern for getting the park back up and running, but none of that mattered if everyone was dead. The fences coming back on wouldn't secure anything that'd already escaped. And while the other aspects –– phones coming back on, for example –– were beneficial, surely they could simultaneously stage a rescue for the others as they turned the park back on?

There had to be wireless radios set for communication, something to help ensure their success.

"Right. Something's wrong and I am _not_ going to wait any longer." The paleobotanist turned in bewilderment at his colleague, never having heard the man speak so pointedly before. "I'm going to go get the power back on."

Suffice it to say, Joseph Moseley looked entirely serious about his statement –– much to the bewilderment of everyone else.

"Moseley," Patmore was not pleased with this proclamation, "You can't just stroll down the road, you know!"

"Let's not be too hasty here––"

But the man was not to be deterred, "We can sit around here and do nothing, or I can go and find out what happened."

"You want to blindly risk your life ?" Bird's rhetorical question was sharp and biting, the woman watching as the scientist only became more resolved about his decision. "So be it. I'm coming with you."

"Fine."

As he began to make his way out of the bunker, she asked only one more thing: "You do plan on making this out alive, yes?"

"Yeah." It was really more of a question than a statement, Joseph caught off-guard by the inquiry.

"Right. I think we'll need some supplies first. Walkies, for instance?"

_._

"Dr. Hughes, can we go now?" "Why is it always me?" "Well, that was… something! I think I could've done without the T-Rex though, if I'm being entirely honest."

Elsie wasn't being paid enough for this.

Three more years of funding, if she actually lived to see, was _not_ worth this.

_._

It took him only half a minute after Moseley left to finally speak.

"Mr. Crawley, I must insist that I be allowed to conduct one more search for the others. Whether this plan to restart the park works or not, we will still have to find the others."

It might have been better to have pitched this idea earlier, judging from Crawley's growing reluctance: "But should we really split up now? Start another search when we don't even know what happened with Ray?"

"Not only should we start another search," Cora's terse words were filled with agreement, "But I will be accompanying Dr. Carson. I know the park better than anyone, even you, Patmore. And I am _not_ leaving our children out there, not when we can still save them."

"Now, see here––"

"No, Robert. You will either let me go of my own accord or I _will_ leave." The unspoken _for good_ , firmly echoed, the warning clear. She was not talking of stepping away for a spell or walking away for a moment. The American felt this was an issue worthy of leaving permanently.

That is, if Robert truly couldn't be bothered to let her go.

Mr. Crawley nearly glared at his wife, if only because he thought the whole thing too dangerous to bear consideration. She may know the park better than anyone, but that was hardly enough of a reason to let her risk her life. However, having known Cora as long as he had, he knew she was being entirely serious.

He just couldn't agree to her terms.

"What about those heroics we promised to stop, Dr. Carson?" Anna brought up, sensing a stumble in the conversation. Frankly, she was not willing to watch another colleague offer their life to this park so recklessly.

"I'm afraid that there is a need for heroics today." The blonde didn't buy that reasoning, not for one moment. She didn't find it credible nor logical enough to warrant this sort of behaviour.

And she wasn't the only one.

"I really don't think this is wise––" Robert Crawley didn't want to see his wife go off on some adventure he couldn't control. Taking them all on a monitored tour of the park was entirely different compared to letting her traipse around animals when their children and the others might already be dead. And while that was a disgusting thought, one that cut deeper into him than any blade, he recognized it was more than likely the case.

"I'm going, Robert."

Before the man could snap out anything he would inevitably regret, someone else was speaking up, "Mr. Crawley, what if I accompanied them?"

Charles Carson didn't want Beryl Patmore tagging along on this experience, not when she had already demonstrated how stubborn she could be. Sure, she had experience with a gun and that could come in handy. But he didn't want someone pulling him away from his only chance at finding Elsie, and she quite possibly was the only person in the room who could.

"I'm afraid that is the only way I'd feel comfortable with this."

Unfortunately, Patmore's presence was the only way to pacify the man. That, and grabbing a walkie talkie so they could communicate with or without phone signal. The paleobotanist had already accepted the latter as an essential part of the deal.

The former was what irritated the man.

_._

"What did you say about that rescue party of yours?" This was Barrow's sarcasm at its finest, the sound prompting Phyllis to look heavenward before turning with mild fondness. "Aren't they supposed to be here by now?"

"These things take time."

"Thomas,"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up."

_._

"John, Anna," It had taken Robert Crawley much too long to realize that the three of them were the only ones in the room, "Where are Matthew and Mary?"

Judging by the horrified looks the two scientists were exchanging, he had his answer.

"I will find them, Mr. Crawley," John offered, already making his way back toward where they came –– doing his best to leave the bunker as quickly as he could.

"See that you do." Robert didn't really have much faith in the man, seeing as how he was trying his best to conceal an unusually obvious limp today. However, he needed to stay here to help Moseley and Bird reset the park. He couldn't very well be in two places at the same time, now could he?

How did it all come to this?

How did he manage to ruin everything and lose everyone he cared about?

"So much for control." Suffice to say, the man had half a mind to start up that Flea Circus of theirs again. That was, if anyone was still alive by the end of it. He didn't dare to think of what happened to the children. Or to Cora, if something went wrong.

Oh, wait.

Everything had long since gone wrong.

It was only getting worse.

"But, Mr. Craw–– Robert," He didn't care for that gentle tone of hers, not now. "You never really did have control in the first place? Did you?"

The patron scowled, remembering Moseley saying something just like that back when they were partaking in ice cream. What was it with scientists and this ridiculous urge to always be right?

Of course, there was the rub:

In this case, she was right.

_._

"Okay, I'm on channel two. Can you hear me?" They had made it outside, Moseley and Bird. So far, all was well. Nothing in sight and nothing seemed to be disturbed.

" _We can hear you, Joseph. Where are you?"_

"We'll be approaching the Raptor paddock soon," Bird spoke over the scientist, cutting him off. He inwardly sighed, knowing her opinion of his capability when it came to this. Or lack, thereof. "Stick to my heels, Moseley."

" _Understood. Good luck."_

Really, Bird was the only who referred to him like that, as though he were a servant. As it happened, he was a scientist who actually knew his stuff. Except he was now a scientist who could see a paddock clearly tampered with, that sense of fear creeping back into him for the first time in hours.

The gaping hole, metal fiercely contorted to reveal an escape, didn't help.

"My God."

"The shutdown must've turned off all the fences." The game warden cursed, ire in her voice, "Even O'Brien knew better than to mess with that fence!"

Joseph couldn't regain his senses, the only image coming to mind was from when he first encountered the Raptors: their eviscerated meal. This repulsive image kept him from noticing Bird look around the area, the game warden

"This way." He couldn't stop seeing the destruction of that poor animal from before.

"I can see––" Bones. He needed to stop seeing bones. "I can see the shed from here! We can make it if we run!"

"No." Her turn was imperceptible, her eyes drawn to the shadows. "That's not possible."

"And why not?" But he was already recalling Bates' lecture to that Larry boy, his brain whirring away to connect the unspoken strands of reality before them.

"Because we're being hunted." When Joseph stared at her in horror, quietly reeling for air, she knew it was better not to tell him where the pack lingered, where they waited for their prey. "But it's all right."

"Like hell––"

"Look." If someone was going to survive, they had to play smart. Else this was all pointless. "I know exactly where they are. And all you need to do is run straight for the shed."

"And why––"

"Because I've got them." She wouldn't tell him that she could see only one member of the pack. It wouldn't help him run. "Now, go!"

And if her last sight on earth, her last real stab at a memory, was that of Joseph Moseley repeatedly tripping over himself as he scurried toward the shed in an atrociously comical fashion, well, it made for one hell of a final image.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus ends the calm before the final storm. Hope you enjoyed that, and I look forward to seeing you in just a few days –– have a lovely day!


	10. Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** From here on out, it's going to get fast-paced until the end. **Consider this to be a Part 1 / Part 2** sort of deal, with this chapter being Part 1.
> 
> Also! I was reminded: O'Brien would not have dealt with a Raptor, but a Dilophosaurus _._ I'm more than happy to go back and change it so it's more like canon, but it's totally cool with me either way.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** Timing is being played with today. There'll be some scenes rearranged. Also! A few pure fanon scenes will be thrown in, to take the new character dynamics into account. And, of course, I own neither _Jurassic Parks_ nor _Downton Abbey._
> 
> **Warning:** It's not going to be good. I can't bring myself to put the official warnings in, but you'll see.

This had to have been the most pain he'd ever been in. It'd initially been dull flares of a biting fire, one that had slinked around his ankle and threatened to burn only when he moved the wrong way. The man had even been able to block out some of it, trying his best to exhale the pain away –– idiotic as the idea seemed.

Breathing techniques or not, Thomas Barrow was never going to be a match for the branch that finally brought him down.

"Are you all right?" Phyllis had made it to his side in seconds, "Sorry, that was stupid to ask."

"It's all right." The chaotician grunted out amidst the pain. He didn't need to look at his ankle to know how swollen the bloody thing would be, quite satisfied with curling into himself and sharply gasping for any relief. His friend –– for how were they not be friends after all this? –– couldn't get a good look at his ankle with him writhing about. Yet, even without looking over the injury, she knew what they needed to do.

"We have to stop."

"Not when we're this close––"

"No," Phyllis interrupted him without a single regret, "We're stopping. There's no dinosaurs anywhere near, it's fine."

"Baxter," She firmly shook her head, "Bax–– Phyllis,"

"We've got time."

"No, not that," Thomas turned, hissing at the movement, "Really, I've given up on trying to move."

She didn't believe his statement but decided to pretend otherwise: "What is it, then?"

"Do you hear that?"

_._

Mary Crawley had to be the one of the biggest brats John Bates had ever known, this he was absolutely sure of. He wouldn't say as such, knowing that this was not the time for such assertions, but it was true.

At least Larry Grey wouldn't have been so stupid as to run off in the middle of this nightmare.

And, even if he had, that boy would've given his location away in seconds. Not played this ridiculous game of hide-and-seek.

_._

They had finally made it out of the jungle, thoroughly worn out. Any thoughts of ice cream had vanished ages ago, as did any hope for an easy journey.

All that came to mind was a sense of frustration and wariness at the sight of the looming metal fence before them –– the metal barrier had to be at least fifteen feet and carried 10,000 volts, if the sign was to be believed.

The Perimeter Fence.

One of the last things literally standing in the way of their escape.

"Considering what happened yesterday," The escape of the Tyrannosaurus Rex need not be officially referenced, not in the eyes of the scientist. "That fence shouldn't be electrified. But let's not take any chances."

"Right!" "I'm all for not taking any chances." "Whatever you say, Dr. Hughes!"

The paleontologist nodded, scanning around for something to test the fence with. Spying a branch on the ground, she scooped it up and approached the fence cautiously –– motioning for the children to remain behind her. They dutifully maintained a safe distance, watching with bated breath as she tossed the branch onto the fence.

Nothing happened.

"Looks safe!" Sybil cheered, eagerly stepping forward.

"Not yet!" It was highly unlikely the fence would suddenly become charged with electricity after that test –– not without some sort of change, that is. Equally unlikely was the possibility that this lack of electrical reaction stemmed from a brief malfunction.

However, Dr. Hughes was adamant about not letting the children unnecessarily risk themselves. She could only suppose it was sleep-deprivation and paranoia mixing once more, but even in the face of logic she didn't dare to leave anything to chance. "There is still one more test to conduct."

Before the children had a chance to say otherwise, she reached out a hand and carefully placed it directly on the wire –– exhaling in relief when nothing happened. Logic had proven to be true, once again.

"Dr. Hughes!" When she turned back around to inform them that it was safe, the woman blinked at what she discovered: each child was fiercely shielding their gaze from her, having expected that last test to have ended poorly.

"It's all right! Everything's safe!" Like a light switching on, all three children broke into their own forms of relief –– a tear or two escaping more than one individual.

Eager to reassure them all was well, "Ready for another climb? Should be the last one!"

It worked like a charm, at least for Edith: "Great. _More_ climbing!"

Like dominoes falling at last, the strawberry blonde's disdain triggered a chain-reaction, starting with Tom.

"I thought you liked climbing, Edith?"

Sybil smiled at the conversation, eyeing the fence with a little trepidation. Climbing trees and climbing fences were entirely different in her mind. She always got injured every time with fences –– accidentally scraping herself on a loose piece of metal, scratching her hand or something as unpleasant.

"It'll be faster than you think, Edith." She eventually chimed in, letting hope colour her tone.

Whatever happened this time around, the youngest daughter wouldn't be alone.

And that was all that mattered.

_._

"So, you decided that your best option was to split up and leave the children in Dr. Hughes' care?" While Beryl could concede some of the logic here, she still thought the duo's plan to be brazenly reckless. Of course, it wasn't much better than what Dr. Carson had proposed only last night. "And now, thanks to the continued lack of signal and loss of battery, you've no idea where any of the others are?"

The woman figured that, out of the three rescuers, she was the best one to ask Baxter and Barrow about all of this, having forced her two companions to wait by the car as she looked the injured pair over.

"It was all my idea," Barrow interjected before Baxter could say anything else, "I forced Phy–– Baxter and Dr. Hughes to go along with it."

Patmore rather doubted that was the case. Somehow, she didn't get the impression that Elsie Hughes was one to "go along" with others' decisions. Moreover, Baxter –– for all of her charm –– seemed to be quite the little spitfire when she wanted to be.

"Well, whatever you do, don't tell _him_ that. That's the last thing he needs to hear." The game warden warned, waiting for them to promise as such before calling the American and the paleobotanist back over. "Okay. We need to move Dr. Barrow _very_ carefully…"

"But what happened to the others?"

"They all got split up. We won't stop searching for them, but we need to take care of his injury before we can go off guns a-blazing." Beryl blatantly lied about how the parting happened, not interested in watching Barrow or Baxter get ripped to shreds for something that really hadn't been in their control. "Now, are you going to help or not?"

_._

Joseph should've been afraid for his life, running away from Bird and the Raptors that were nearby and apparently on the hunt. As it stood, he was too busy trying not to fall onto the ground in a fit of clumsiness.

Somehow, he made it to the shed. Bolting through past the fence left ajar, hurriedly slamming the door to the shed open and shut in seconds, the scientist only stopped running when he nearly tripped down the metal stairs inside. Taking a moment to thank his lucky stars he hadn't taken a tumble, belatedly worried that that had been the last of his luck, Joseph shakily called out, "Mr. Arnold?"

When there was no immediate response, trembling hands fumbled to turn on his communication device. "Mr. Crawley," He could only pray they still had signal, not wanting to do this next bit alone. "I've made it to the shed."

" _Good."_ Joseph silently exhaled in relief. " _We've got the schematics right in front of us. Everything will be fine, Joseph."_

"Right." His heart hammering away with trepidation, the man tried to call out for the technician a second time, "Mr. Arnold?"

He could only hope there would be an answer.

_._

"I really hate climbing." Edith knew it wasn't going to help the others if she talked like that. But she couldn't help it: it really bothered her that they had to do more climbing, especially since it wasn't even going to be in a tree. It was on a dangerous fence that was only safe when she was as far away from it as she could be.

So, once again, they were _doomed_.

"We're almost there." Tom pointedly reassured her, the normally patient boy beginning to lose his decorum. It happened to be that they were almost over the top of the fence, something he found to be the hardest part of climbing a fence.

Make it over the top and it was only about maintaining your balance and carefully making your way down. You didn't have to struggle with the atmosphere tightening around your body the further up you went, your arms trembling from the exertion. Really, the pressure that came with crawling upward went away once you could swing yourself over the fence. And, yes, you still had to manage your footing, but that was child's play after a while.

And though he had lost his appetite for climbing yesterday, along with his stomach's contents, the boy knew this was necessary. That this was the fastest way back to the compound.

Tom just also knew that, if and when this was all over, he wouldn't be climbing a thing for as long as he could help it.

_._

" _Still there, Joseph?"_ Anna's voice reassured the scientist more than Robert's supposed confidence. Of course, there was one voice that always soothed away his fears. But if he thought about _her_ and what could've possibly happened to her, he wouldn't be able to take another step.

"I'm here."

" _Excellent."_ Mr. Crawley was back in command, frustratingly so. _"All right –– there should be a metal stairway."_ Joseph nodded to himself, already halfway down the thing. " _Go down it."_

The scientist nodded again, wondering what the hell had happened to Mr. Arnold, "Okay. I'm heading down."

" _After about twenty or thirty feet, you'll come to a T junction. Take a left."_

"Right."

He needed to ignore the fact that it sounded like Mr. Crawley and Anna were arguing about something, their voices distorted by the signal.

_Just take the left. It'll all work out._

_It has to._

_._

"I can't do this!"

Sybil softly sighed at the sound of her sister crying out, not wanting her to give up now when they were so close.

But, they weren't as close as she'd thought. Or, at least, Edith wasn't. Sybil, Tom, and Dr. Hughes, they were all a quarter of the way down. Edith had gotten stuck at the top, the girl too frightened to swing herself over.

"Edith," Dr. Hughes began to speak, but the youngest Crawley daughter had a better idea.

"Allow me, Dr. Hughes," She politely interjected, racing back up the fence to join her sister before the older woman could stop her. "Edith, I'm right here. We can do this together."

Her older sister looked away, disappointed in herself and unwilling to admit she needed the help. But Sybil wasn't going anyway, not when she was needed. Even if it meant further scrapes against the metal, more aches in her muscles from the movement, she would be right there no matter what.

Sybil waited, fingers curled into the metal, heart pounding away at the sudden exertion. The wind brushed about the stillness, giving her a breeze to drink in whilst her sister came to a decision. She could only hope the answer would be yes, though her sister's fears did have the tendency to overpower her from time to time. And for someone who'd already been pushed a great deal over the last day, it would make sense if Edith said she couldn't go any further. They'd just figure out something else, find another way back to safety.

"All right." Tentative brown eyes finally met comforting blue, a decision beginning to come forth. "Together."

Sybil smiled.

_._

_Damn it!_ "Dead end–– this is a dead end, Mr. Crawley!"

" _Wait a minute, wait one minute, there was a right back there somewhere––"_

He bit back a curse at the man's mistake, only feeling a sense of control when Anna came back on the line, " _Joseph? Look above you –– there should be a large bundle of cable and pipes all leading in the same direction! Follow that!"_

The scientist cursed his lack of thinking, glancing up to find the cables in plain sight –– following this trail back into another corridor. But, even with these new instructions, there was a hopelessness that threatened to suffocate him, the space seemingly shrinking with every step.

"The piping goes back up the stairs," Joseph muttered to himself, following the trail.

" _That's right."_ Anna mindlessly reassured him, " _Now, look for a metal grate... "_ As she continued to instruct him, Moseley turned to call out for the lost technician one more time.

"Mr. Arnold still hasn't answered me," He tightly grasped a breath in anticipation, hoping for something to change, to hear the man's voice again. Normally, when he admitted as such, the world went out of its way to prove him wrong.

Nothing happened.

So much for that. "Right. I'm on the grating."

" _Excellent!"_ Mr. Crawley seemed hellbent on controlling some part of the proceedings, " _The cable will terminate in a big, grey box."_

"All right." Obstinate patron or not, they were another step closer to turning back on the power. "I'm following the tubing. I'm going down a passageway."

He didn't dare to ask how long the passageway went for nor for any comforting words. He merely thought of her smile, the quiet strength she'd have, the fact that they were going to be reunited and make it out of here alive.

Eventually, time faded into his step the longer he held onto the memory of her, the grey box coming into sight long before he realized what had happened. "Okay, I see it now."

Passing through the mesh gate, Joseph observed the fact that it said "High Voltage". That information typically would've put him on edge, but he found he was desensitized to such news.

The breakers and switches waiting for him inside the box, however, the responsibility behind all of _that_ knocked aside his bearings effortlessly–– the scientist needing a moment to remember to breathe.

" _Now, Joseph, you can't just throw the main switch by hand."_ Leave it to Robert Crawley to remind him he didn't have the time to breathe. _"You have to pump up the primer handle to give you a charge. It's large, flat, and grey."_

He spotted it at once, still needing to stop for a second. But then the thought of her floated back to the forefront of his mind and he found he could go through with this.

"All right."

_Here goes nothing._

Moseley pumped the primer with everything he had until it was ready, watching the little signs alongside the primer change, "It's charged!"

" _Good! Now, under the words 'contact position', there's a round green button that says 'push to close'. The rest is self-explanatory!"_

He rolled his eyes at the statement, pushing the button with a sense of trepidation –– jumping back as a dozen indicator lights all came to life, the red glare from the control panel causing him to flinch.

Self-explanatory, indeed.

_._

The two sisters were taking too long to climb down. Nothing was officially wrong but Elsie did have half a mind to hike back up to them and see if she could scoop up the pair to speed these proceedings up.

Gut instinct warned her they couldn't linger, but –– as her luck would have it –– it didn't give a proper explanation.

It only insisted that, if she couldn't climb back up the fence, she might as well continue going down.

She was the closest to the bottom of the fence, wanting to be able to catch any of the children should they lose their footing. Tom was a few feet above her, not wanting to be too far from the daughters in case something happened. Sybil and Edith had made it about halfway down so far, trudging along slower than snails to keep a comfortable pace for the older girl.

Cement greeted her feet indifferently, the woman letting go of the fence right as an awful screeching noise shot out across the air –– a warning emitting for everyone in sight. She mentally cursed as the fence's alarms continued to sound, stepping back a few steps away from the perimeter fence, her gaze being guided back up to the children. Tom was frightened but fine, Sybil managing to keep a tight clutch on the fence.

But, Edith.

Edith had screamed, the loss of her grip causing her to tip backwards through the air –– falling.

_._

" _Now, Joseph, the red buttons turn on the individual park systems."_ Said red buttons seemed to taunt him from afar, daring him to freeze up again. " _Switch them on."_

He gulped, unsure as to why bloody red buttons were threatening to stop him after everything else. **Herbivore Feeding Compound** , **Visitors Cntr. Compound** , **Visitors Cntr. Control Room** –– all twelve park indicators loomed in front of him, seeming so assured he wouldn't be up to the task.

" _You've got this, Joseph!"_ The tinny sound of Anna brought an inkling of familiarity back, the scientist able to step forward.

Methodically, he began to finish the job.

_._

They'd been fine until they hadn't.

Edith had almost fallen but, by some miracle, held onto the fence. She'd scraped herself, drops of blood trickling into the metal, the girl whimpering at the pain. Sybil had scrambled to be by her sister's side, trying to get them both back on track but failing miserably: the middle daughter was paralyzed by it all.

As for Tom?

He was in a similar boat as Edith –– staring up in petrified horror as the girls grappled with the fence.

"You're all going to have to jump!" Dr. Hughes' voice pulled away his concentration, the boy looking back down toward the woman. His body trembled at the thought, refusing to follow through on the command. It wasn't the jump that scared him.

It was who he'd have to leave behind.

"'Jump'?" Edith repeated, her voice careening into its highest pitch yet. "I can't jump!"

"Yes you can, Edith!" "We can jump together, Edith, you won't be alone!" "C'mon, Edith! Just jump!"

This did absolutely nothing for her confidence.

"What if we count to three?" Sybil was willing to do anything, knowing they didn't have much time. And though her voice nearly vanished in the wind, Tom snatched it back –– needing to know their plan.

"We'll hit Tom," Edith weakly protested, paler than a bone. She was probably only using him as an excuse not to jump, but he appreciated the sentiment.

Still, that protest of hers decided his next move for him.

Turning back to Dr. Hughes, he warned her of his own plan, "I'm gonna jump in just a moment! Get ready and stand back!"

"'Stand back'? Are you sure?"

"Yes! I've done this loads of times before!"

"I'm not even going to ask!"

He chuckled, quite possibly for the first time that morning. 

Luckily, the woman was willing to let him do this without question.

When the scientist took another couple of steps away from the fence, giving him the space he needed to safely fall, Tom spared another glance up at Edith –– seeing how terrified she was. There was only one thing left for it.

"I know you can do this!" He shouted up at her, fighting to be heard over the alarms screaming away in their ears. "Mary would have to climb all the way down, but _you_ can jump!"

Bringing the eldest Crawley daughter into the conversation did the trick: the strawberry blonde gave a scoff at the thought of her older sister before nodding at his words, a glint returning to her eyes. She didn't quite smirk at the compliment, but there was enough surrounding that sibling rivalry that she did give a small smile.

"Once Tom jumps," Edith proclaimed to her sister, renewed by the boy's remark, "We'll jump."

And though Sybil had rolled her eyes when they brought Mary into this, she could only smile at the exclamation –– pleased her best friend had convinced her sister to take this chance. He grinned a bit at her approval, before turning his attention to the next challenge of the hour.

It was time for him to act.

Flinging away from the metal, Tom gave himself to the air, letting the wind shriek around him as he dropped. Years of adventuring with Kieran had trained his body well –– the boy able to bend and twist through the air as he needed to, in spite of the fact that he started from at least eight feet above the ground.

"See? Tom jumped and he's fine! Aren't you?" The air may have been soundly knocked out of him by the end of it, a surprise wheeze escaping his lungs, but he'd made it.

"Sure am!" Parts of him stung from slamming into the ground and he'd certainly have a few bruises after this was over. But he really was fine.

"He's fine," During this latest adventure, Edith had built up a habit of faintly echoing others. Yet, this time, the repetition didn't stem from fear. No, it was coming from a newfound confidence, one that steadily rose within her as she readied herself. "And we'll be, too."

"Yes, we will!"

On the ground, an entirely different conversation was occurring.

One that was decidedly less optimistic in nature.

"I need to get them off that fence," Dr. Hughes exclaimed, trying to dart toward the fence. But Tom grabbed hold of her arm, pulling the woman back before she could take another step. "They're running out of time––"

"Trust me! They'll be fine!"

"Dr. Hughes!" Sybil interrupted them before another word could be said, "We're going to need you to catch Edith at the count of three. Ready?"

The scientist gave a curt nod, ready.

Without any further hesitation, Edith clenched her eyes shut and pushed herself off the fence. She wasn't ready for the wind slapping her eyes open, for her lungs to be burned by the air or for her heart to plummet alongside her body. Fifteen feet had never seemed so impossibly dense to fall through, an invisible weight pinning her down into the realization that there had never been a guarantee of safety.

When she slammed into the paleontologist's arms, sending them both to the ground, she could only sob into the woman. Dirt exploded from the impact, scratching her and keeping her eyes closed as she struggled to come to terms with what happened.

She had made it through.

She really had survived.

"Sybil!" She could hear Tom calling out for her sister, "Sybil, they're going to need a minute!"

"I can just jump!" Her darling sister declared, "In fact––"

There was a shriek, a scream, and the sound of a body crashing into the ground. Dust cut into Edith the second she tried to see what happened, forcing her to shield her eyes one final time. But not before she witnessed the sight of Sybil collapsed on the floor, Tom clutching her and repeatedly crying out her name, her body limp and lifeless.

The fence had been recharged.

She had made her escape before the thing came back into power.

And her darling sister had paid the price.

_._

A series of lights flickered on above Joseph's head, the sight so reassuring he could cry. If the park's power was back on, Phyllis just might be protected from the dangers inside. She just might be able to make it back alive.

"Anna, Mr. Crawley," He started to proudly state, so pleased he'd made a real difference for a change, "I think we're back in business!"

_That_ was when the Raptor's head burst through the pipes behind him, the man screaming at the shock. He bolted away from the creature, eyes glued to its movement as it shoved itself closer and closer toward him –– the most bloodcurdling noises he'd ever encountered slicing through the air.

When he realized he could escape through the mesh door behind him, that he could keep the bloody thing back, he took the chance.

That the dinosaur crashed into the door, hurling him to the ground, threatening to open the door with its claws and forcing the man into crawling backwards. He slammed into something familiar, a hand coming into view. The caramel skin tone caused him to sigh in relief, the man beginning to turn around.

"Thank God," Joseph muttered, craning his neck to look and realize that the hand was attached to a severed arm –– the appendage following him as he tried to escape both it and the dinosaur. It wouldn't let go of him, revulsion threatening to spew out at the sensation, the scientist scrambling to get back to his feet.

But the Raptor was closing in.

He wouldn't make it, not at this rate.

He'd sustained some sort of injury, something that stabbed at his leg and forced him to stagger up the stairs –– the creature still too close behind, clanging against the metal as it chased him.

That there was a door leading outside, an escape only inches away, meant nothing.

With the creature seconds behind, Joseph Moseley had run out of time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you believe me if I said this was the last cliffhanger for the story?
> 
> Now, I'm going to do my best to get the final update as soon as I can. Regardless, it will be up in three at the latest.


	11. And Then There Were––

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** Fasten your seatbelts, everyone! Liberties of all kinds are being taken one final time!
> 
> Also! **For future guest reviewers:** seeing as how this is the last one, I will be responding to any future guest reviews at the bottom of this chapter.

Numbness had set in the moment she'd fallen, regret slamming into the ground alongside her body. Anxiety had him clutching for a pulse, agony flooding him with sobs as he realized she really wasn't breathing.

"Sybil,"

The boy repeated her name through the tears, clinging to the bloody word as though it were a lifeline.

A _lifeline._

Of all the things to compare her to!

He wanted to die. Wanted to swap roles with her, wanted a chance to go back in time and shove Edith off the fence before the warning sirens had begun. Wanted to scream and sob and demand for it all to change, wanted–– wanted––

Wanted anything but for her limp body to rest in his arms, a testament to reality.

"Tom," Something reverberated around him, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, not now. "Tom, you need to let go."

He couldn't move.

So she did for him.

A warmth briefly grasped him, piercing through the numbness, quietly moving the boy out of the way. The warmth vanished, his swollen eyes belatedly darting back to follow its path –– taking in the sight.

Dr. Hughes knew CPR.

She could bring her back.

Sybil didn't have to be dead.

His best friend didn't have to be gone.

_._

_Why don't you just give up?_

It was what he was known for doing. It was what everyone expected of him. His own heart was pounding out an argument for it this very minute, demanding he put an end to this futile escape and stop. The park was turned on, power was back, they could receive help so long as they reset the rest of the system –– surely that was enough for the likes of him?

It should be.

It had to be.

As Joseph felt his body begin to give out, the door leading to the outside world inches from his grasp, the scientist managed to miscalculate his footing one final time, lurching straight into the way-out. A hand reached out defensively, wanting to ease the pain of crashing into the unforgiving surface, clutching the handle for support and pushing it open out of habit.

The tropical air slapped him back into the world of living, the dismal grim claustrophobia from the shed fading along with his supposed defeat. He'd forgotten that any chance for survival was a chance worth taking, now forcibly slamming the door shut right on the Raptor's face –– pushing himself to rapidly jog away as best as he could.

Sprinting wouldn't be an option again for another five minutes, that was true.

But with the Raptor locked in the shed, he could take his time.

_._

Mist surrounded the foliage, a trail of claws dragging through the terrain and giving May Bird a fighting chance to trace the pack's tracks. Having spotted them from before, sending Moseley off in order to give this park and everyone in it a fighting chance, she knew this would be her last chance to do something –– to go after the creatures determined to kill them all.

Déjà vu trickled down her spine, crawling across her nerves, the rustling wind doing little to dispel the sensation. She didn't care to wonder what memory this experience was triggering, focusing only on her prey. There stood a Raptor in plain sight, taunting Bird, daring her to take a shot whilst it waited in the open.

The game warden was well aware that she was surrounded.

She knew this was all a trap.

She fingered her rifle with futility: they'd caged her in, there would be no chance of surviving. The two others in the pack hadn't descended yet but they would soon enough –– she could feel them eyeing her through the foliage. She probably could've said something snarky, something clever, anything to make the grim conclusion a little more "heroic" or some such nonsense.

Bird didn't care.

Just taking down as many of the bastards as she could would be enough.

_._

"It's them." Slicing through the air at last, optimism crackled through the American's shocked words, "Those–– those are my children!"

Charles whipped around to look in the direction Cora was now screaming at, knowing that if Elsie was still alive she'd be there. When his eyes recognized the silhouette sketched against the compound, "Patmore!"

The car sped up in response, "I know! But we need to get him back to the emergency bunker so that ankle of his can get looked at! Baxter and Barrow won't be able to get there by themselves."

"It's all right! Don't worry about me!" Thomas continued to protest, willing to wait out the pain, "We need to rescue the children first!"

"With what space? We can barely fit everyone in as is! No, we're better off dropping you and Baxter off and then going back. They're almost at the visitor center as it is, they're safe!"

Charles made to indignantly protest Patmore's plan, silenced only by a hand discreetly tapping him on the shoulder. He sharply glanced behind only to see who it was. When he discovered Cora was the culprit, he had half a mind lecture the woman about the ethics behind the situation –– positively stunned the mother was giving up.

But she wasn't giving up. The woman was going so far as to gesture to the game warden's sole rifle as a suggestion of some kind –– the weapon resting between the driver and the passenger seat.

Seeing as how Cora was smaller than Charles, she'd been designated to the back along with Phyllis and Thomas whilst Charles took the "shotgun" seat in the front with Patmore. Which meant that, even though the patron couldn't steal the spare rifle undetected, a certain paleobotanist could.

A plan materialized in seconds, one that would have an unlikely pair working effortlessly together. It was only a matter of waiting for the right moment, ensuring that they had the element of surprise on their side. And now that their priorities were within sight, her sighting confirming everyone had survived, they could wait until an opportunity came forth.

"Wait –– who's that being carried? A kid?" Thomas had been staring off in the direction of the children, obtaining Cora's attention. The mother stole another look at the figures in the distance, realizing that Dr. Hughes was, in fact, carrying someone in her arms.

In seconds, it was clear who that someone was.

The plan was chucked out the window at once, the American snatching up the rifle before anyone could stop her –– launching herself out of the vehicle. It was painful and should've taken her down for the count, the momentum alone enough to send her rolling through the ruthless terrain.

But she could not abandon her children any longer.

"What the _hell_ just happened?" Patmore couldn't afford to look behind to see what happened. "Did someone just jump out of the bloody car?"

"Not quite," Thomas could barely be heard over the front passenger door shutting, " _Two_ someones 'just jumped out of the bloody car'."

Phyllis sighed, the game warden sending off a string of curses. The former was vexed he had spoken up, knowing that snarky attitude would get him in trouble one day. The latter was merely irritated at the behaviour of the group, thinking the American and the paleobotanist stupid for thinking they could charge into the situation without a plan.

"If either of you even _think_ of joining them, you're gonna wish that T-Rex had finished you off." Patmore coldly warned them, speeding up the vehicle. The sooner she tranquilized every idiot in the park, the happier she would be.

"Yes, ma'am." "No joining over here."

_._

They had made it to the compound. Having plodded the rest of the way from the fence, the worn out adventurers trudged through the lobby, dejectedly noticing that there was not another soul in sight.

Edith pushed open the door to the restaurant before Dr. Hughes had to, watching the woman wearily bring her sister over to a table –– carefully depositing Sybil onto the white linens that adorned the surface. When CPR had worked to save the dark-haired girl, something the others couldn't believe, Dr. Hughes had taken it upon herself to carry her sister as far as she could.

"Now, I'm going to have to find the others and get you to a doctor." The scientist looked toward the other two children, "Can I trust you to look after Sybil, Edith, Tom?"

"Of course." "Yes."

She nodded, turning back to Sybil, noticing something silly, something that should've been deemed insignificant. Edith looked on curiously, watching as Dr. Hughes softly smiled before speaking, "I suppose it makes sense your hair's all stood up."

Sybil giggled, "I suppose so," she echoed, coughing a bit as she did so.

Any good humour deflated at once, the woman's smile dropping as she straightened up.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," The scientist informed them all, "That, I promise."

Okay, Edith knew that Dr. Hughes meant well, but how could this end well? Surely, it would only end in disaster? Surely, just like before, they were doomed? But, this time, actually doomed instead of all of the other times they hadn't really been doomed? Because now that they've been left alone by the only adult nearby, how could they possibly take care of themselves now?

Unbeknownst to the strawberry blonde, her sister had pushed herself off the table –– their friend trying to stop the girl from moving.

"We're supposed to take care of you, Sybil!" Edith looked up to find Tom and Sybil bickering, the boy guiding the weakened girl back to a chair.

"But food can take care of me just as well!" Her sister was adamant, sluggishly gesturing to what had pulled her focus. Curiously, she turned, proceeding to gape at the sight.

Okay.

She really needed to stop thinking they were doomed.

Especially when delicacies of _all_ kinds were waiting for them on the buffet tables, preserved just for them. Cakes, breads, salads, _ice cream_ , it all waited for them in the corner. Loads of food sat on the tables, ready to be devoured by the ravenous children.

Well, who was she to disappoint?

"Right." Tom started to speak, breathless, "We'll get you a plate. Just sit."

Sybil sent him an exasperated look, still willing to plop into a seat without too much protest, "I'm holding you to that!"

It took them approximately three minutes to start partaking in the buffet. Vegetables, desserts, it all traversed from the tables to where the three children were sat. Suffice it to say, the trio was content to nibble away at anything and everything that caught their interest, their respective appetites quite up to the task.

Edith had been lifting a spoon of jello to her mouth when it happened. When a darkness dripped onto the wall, a shadow that only structured itself when the Raptor finally crept past them –– prowling about for any tangible prey. Her jello quivered at the sight, a trembling hand trying its best to set the dessert down.

"Edith?" Sybil softly questioned, still out of it. She was the only one who was unaware of the sudden threat, the others having spotted the shadow at once. "Edith, are you all––"

Tom had to settle for placing a hand over his friend's mouth, hoping she'd forgive him for silencing her like that. And if she couldn't forgive him, he could only hope she'd be able to run. Because they hadn't been discovered yet. The dinosaur was only lurking through the halls, not outright tracking them down.

But with their luck, that would change soon enough.

_._

They had disappeared from sight, Elsie and the children. But Charles knew that following Cora would lead him to them. He knew that the woman refused to let her children go, not now.

"What's the plan?" He mustered out when he finally caught up to his patron, eyeing the rifle she'd stolen. He really needed to get into shape, much as he loathed to admit it. Mind, he wouldn't have to get into shape if they all stayed away from these sorts of situations.

"Find my children. Kill anything that gets in the way."

He nodded, the scientist in him protesting the thought of destroying life whilst the person desperate to be reunited with his loved ones had no such qualms.

"Do you know how to use that?"

She scoffed, shooting him a look, "My mother taught me. I'm better than Harold. Had to help him figure it out."

Right. Charles didn't know who Harold was but he found he didn't really need that information at the moment. He would take her at her word and leave the firearms to the woman.

He also would not be giving her cause to use the rifle anytime soon, not if he could help it.

The man turned his attention back to the path ahead, his eyes widening at the sight of the only person who mattered coming back into view. Quickening his pace before his body could protest, Charles raced across the grass with no thought as to what was next.

"Dr. Hu––" No, he couldn't do that.

Whatever else may come, they couldn't go back to before.

"Elsie!" The cry escaped him before he could give it another thought, the woman freezing as he called out to her. Charles thought he saw her tremble with disbelief, her back to him. Just what was she thinking? Was it all a mistake? Did this nightmare convince her this was the end of their friendship?

"Charles!" His heart soared as she turned toward him with tears heavy with delight, her relieved lilt pushing him to take those last strides. There was no doubt in her eyes, nothing to suggest that there was any reason to stop now or to falter in this.

When he reached her, everything that had once held them back was tossed aside as they finally reunited. No more excuses, no more moving at a glacial pace. Arms clung to one another as they embraced, the pair bowled over by the solace that flooded them. "Elsie, I––"

The sight of her footprints embedded in the mud may have brought him here, but holding her in his arms was the only thing keeping the man together. That she was holding on just as tightly, that her eyes shone with every emotion he felt, only confirmed the unspoken truth.

"I know, Charles." Elsie murmured, looking up at him with a tenderness he felt blessed to finally be witnessing. "No doubt we've _a lot_ to talk about. But, I know."

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped at this, relieved that they could have this. That he had been right to hope, that she truly wanted this just as much as he. The world could have spun out of control right then and there, and it wouldn't have made a difference. For a sudden clarity took hold of them both, lips drawing toward each other at last.

"I hate to interrupt," Both of the scientists leapt back, having forgotten all about their American patron who had finally approached them, "Really, especially since it's you. But, Dr. Hughes, I _need_ to know where my children are."

"Of course," Unaware she carried on holding Charles' hand, instinctually refusing to part with the man after all this time, Elsie turned back to their patron, grimly pleased the woman had a rifle. No doubt she'd need it. "They're inside the café and ought to have noticed that buffet by now."

Cora gave a mirthless chuckle at the thought of that particular buffet, a certain irony crossing her mind. The same restaurant she nearly collapsed in grief in –– long after Robert had retired for the evening –– was the same one her children managed to arrive at. "Thank you, Dr. Hughes."

Without another word, the American ran off in the direction of the restaurant –– reminding the Scot of her own promise to return to the children as soon as she could. That Sybil was rather weak only helped to solidify her resolve.

"Charles," She began to speak, "I need to go make sure they're all right."

"No." Elsie turned at him, a protest frothing up inside her. She may very well love the man –– and, yes, she could admit that now, at least to herself –– but he was not going to stop her from keeping her promise. " _We_ need to go make sure they're all right."

Surprise caught in her throat, shock forcing out what little air she'd been carrying for her protest.

If not for the fact that they had children to care for, she would've kissed him right then and there.

But, whether she wanted to kiss him or not, "Dr. Carson! Dr. Hughes!"

Elsie pivoted around, bewildered, not having expected to hear _that_ voice at the last second.

_._

Chocolate and running didn't mix.

Adding attempts at stealth into that equation really didn't help.

Panting for air like a terrier, Tom kept his hold on Sybil tight as the trio bolted through the kitchen and toward the back corner –– where some sort of metal boxy thingy he couldn't remember the name of awaited them to hide behind. Keeping Sybil in the middle of the group had been a fantastic idea born of pure desperation. Edith and him held the exhausted girl up as they skidded to a stop, taking refuge behind that metal boxy thingy. The indifferent chill of the metal was a balm for his nerves, the boy able to slow his panting down to that of a German Shepherd.

'Course, if he'd really been a German Shepherd, it'd be an entirely different world. At the very least, he'd be able to bite a Raptor or maul one to bits.

" _Bite a Raptor"? "Maul one to bits"?_ Stifling the weird thoughts, not knowing where they were coming from, the boy forced himself to hold onto one really good breath. His logic, childish as it may seem, was that if he didn't hold his breath, they would be found out in seconds. With that in mind, the boy silently inhaled as much air as he could and prepared himself to sneak a glance back toward the way they came, to see if they'd been followed.

_Nothing._ He realized with relief, seeing nothing through that small, circular window. They'd escaped the Raptor's attention, and were now safe––

A soft curse escaped the boy as Tom whipped back to Sybil and Edith, his lungs losing themselves to the rhythm of fear. He could only hope the Raptor hadn't seen him when it peered into the room, that it wasn't seconds from coming in and killing them all.

But its eyes had glinted with knowledge, the creature's head having tilted in anticipation as it began to stare through the window. He could try to fool himself if he really wanted, but he'd been spotted.

_._

Joseph Moseley didn't care if his two mentors had finally figured out their feelings for one another. That was to say, he was happy for them and all, but they all needed to start running back to the emergency compound because there were at least two other Raptors on the loose.

"Dr. Carson! Dr. Hughes!" He rolled his eyes as the pair abashedly turned around to face him, acting like teenagers. Of course, even though he really did want to tell them about the Raptors, he _really_ needed to breathe first because he'd genuinely thought he was a goner and that whole bit had taken _quite_ a lot of energy.

Needless to say, he was a scientist, not a cross-country runner.

Approximately two minutes later, Dr. Carson had wrangled the short and sweet version of Joseph's adventure from the man. Restarting the park –– which earned him a scathing look from Dr. Hughes he couldn't comprehend –– finding Mr. Arnold's arm, running from the Raptor. Oh, and finding out that the system apparently needed to be rebooted.

In return for all this information, Joseph found out that Phyllis had been safely brought back with Thomas. When he heard that, everything else became irrelevant. He'd gone on auto-pilot after that, promptly handing over his radio so Dr. Hughes and Dr. Carson could communicate with Mr. Crawley and Anna. That way, the pair could find Cora and the others, and then go on to reboot the system in the control room.

Once Joseph transferred over his communication device, it only became a matter of gulping down enough air to make the sprint all the way back to the emergency bunker. But before he could take even one step, "And you sure there's _only_ two raptors, Joseph?"

The scientist paused in his preparations, not wanting to waste any more time, not when _she_ was so close, "Yes!" Still, because it was him and he wasn't entirely sure what Raptors were capable of, "That is, unless they've figured out how to open doors!"

That sentiment only spurred his mentors to run at the speed of lightning, racing into the compound as swiftly as they could.

Yes, well, he had his own race to partake in.

Because, usually, when he took his time with this stuff, it all went to hell.

_._

Edith couldn't hear anything.

Nothing except for the handle to one of the doors coldly rattle, the movement paralyzing every fiber of her. She could hear a lone claw scrap against metal, a heavy breath sliding against the door, the creature pushing against the door feverishly, a ravenous will to devour all––

Right. After today, she would be taking a break from penning any sort of horror or suspense. From here on out, she'd stick to writing fluffy pieces, preferably with happy endings. Maybe fanfiction. She'd heard lovely things about fanfiction––

A distressing growl interrupted the young writer, Edith's eyes widening as her face unwillingly paled. The Raptor was struggling against the heaviness of the door, but it wasn't one to give up. The door's stubbornness would only incense the hunter, the dinosaur letting out a screech as it forced its way into the room.

She turned, wanting to ask her sister or Tom what was slinking into the room, but Tom looked immobilized and Sybil was in a world of her own. Cognizant enough to have a fair idea of what was going on but still out of it in general, her sister had been thrown off entirely by her fall.

All of which had been Edith's fault, of that she had no doubt.

Before another guilty thought could escape, a piercing noise sounded through the air –– forcing all three children to clap their hands to their ears. A signal was being made, archaic in nature and definitely unpleasant to the ear. Hisses, shrieks, a strange sort of cawing noise reverberated around the kitchen, the Raptor quite possibly calling in reinforcements, if she had to make a guess.

The strawberry blonde dared to lift herself a little, to look over the top of the prep tables and seize any sort of knowledge. How many dinosaurs were now in the room, how hopeless was it now? Were there only two or two dozen? Had the monsters honed in on their scent? Would they be attacked in five seconds or five minutes?

The dinosaurs caught a whiff of her panic, one nearly catching sight of her as she ducked back behind the prep table.

The incident was enough to convince the girl that the three of them needed to leave their spot as quickly as they could.

Murmuring her plan to Tom and Sybil, the oldest of the children led them in a crawl against the unsympathetic tiles, only hesitating when the claws of one of those creatures struck against the floor, inches away.

She heard the hunter sniff the air, poised to lunge out at any sign of prey. And with a heart grappling with any speed it could, she stilled herself, listening to the clicks and the clacks of the beast as it paused –– on the other side of the prep table they were shielding themselves behind. She could feel its gaze scan in their direction, the eerie sounds and sniffs of the creature informing her that, at the first opportunity they had, they needed to move.

Before she could scream, pots and pans were being hurled onto them –– the Raptor's tail striking the objects in order to lure them out. Their bodies inadvertently clanged against the cooking gear, the children rapidly taking shelter out of sight, heavy spoons brushing up against them as they hid. So long as they stayed still, they could figure out––

Tom's shoulder unintentionally brushed up against one of larger spoons, Edith whirling around just in time to watch it crash into the floor, metal on tile making for one of the most horrid noises to date.

_No._

The Raptors knew their location, one of them pouncing onto a nearby table, the pair snaking down the aisle to converge on the children. They could only crawl a few feet, every child involved either too exhausted or terrified to do much else.

She could feel the breath of one slink along the side of the prep table, the spoon being rolled as the dinosaurs made their approach. This was it. She was the closest to them, feeling the ragged breaths, her body beginning to shut down on itself.

A spoon raptly smacked against the floor from the other side of the room, forcing Edith's eyes to follow the sound.

_Mary? Matthew?_

_._

"Mrs. Crawley!" John hadn't expected to be seeing the American so soon, his whisper tilting perilously into a shout. That the woman was also carrying a rifle didn't keep his concerns at bay.

She hurried through the restaurant toward him, needing to know why he had been so close to the kitchen door and looked so terrified. When she saw the creatures inside, obtaining hints that _all_ of her children were trapped inside, the woman readied her rifle and–– and found herself being held back by an irritatingly stubborn scientist for a second time in as many days.

"Mrs. Crawley!" He was ripping her away from the window, her only chance at seeing what the hell was happening to her children, "We can't help them if we're dead! We have to be clever!"

"Let me go!"

"Only if you promise not to go after them, not without a proper plan!"

_I have a plan!_ She didn't declare as such, knowing he wouldn't agree. No doubt he would find the idea of shooting anything that got in the way of her children's safety to be a little lacking as a plan. But if they remained locked in this standstill, this battle of obstinate wills, her children would be dead by the time either of them gave up.

"Fine! I promise!" The woman agreed, anything to give them a chance.

Reluctantly, John let her go, turning his attention back to the kitchen and trying his best to concoct a plan that would work in their favour. She herself couldn't bear to look inside any longer, knowing that there was nothing in the kitchen they could use to their advantage.

But there was something out here they could use….

"They're good hunters, right?" It was a rhetorical hiss, snapping John's attention back to Cora. She had stepped away and readied her hand on a trigger, "Let's give them something to hunt."

He would've cringed at the cheesy quality of her retort had the patron not chosen that moment to pull the fire alarm –– the piercing alarms mercilessly careening all around the entire building and shutting up any further protest.

_._

Thomas Barrow never thought it would be _this_ entertaining to see Baxter and Moseley "reunite", but he was quickly being proved wrong.

Moseley had miscalculated the speed necessary to swing the emergency compound's door open, smacking into the door and stumbling backwards in the process. Everyone whirled around at the bang, Patmore ready with another rifle, watching as it finally opened to reveal the clumsy scientist.

He'd been a jumbled mess of apologies and nerves, his initial gibberish only ceasing when he finally caught sight of Baxter. Everything seemed to stop for Moseley, the man too shocked by her presence to do anything.

It was she who rushed forward, bringing him back to life as she pulled him into a kiss –– finally revealing how much she'd missed the scientist. Really, Thomas would've pegged her as the subtle type, the one who could hold onto her feelings for years, not the woman who stood before him.

"Chaos theory at its finest," He cheekily muttered to himself, proceeding to applaud the pair. Mr. Crawley scoffed at the chaotician's remark, Patmore and Anna both rolling their eyes at him. Unlike everyone else, Moseley and Baxter were a little too engaged with one another to give a flying fig over what he had to say. Well, he saw how it was! Of course, when he took into consideration how mild mannered both individuals tended to be, Thomas couldn't help but be impressed.

Still, if they kept this up, he'd probably have to crack another joke designed to thoroughly fluster the pair –– if only to pull them apart.

_._

Having just used every ounce of wit and strength they had to lock one of the dinosaurs in that freezer, Mary had been bowled over at the shock of the fire alarm blasting to life. The sound punched through everyone and everything in sight, the kitchen's design creating a horrible resonance trap for the noise, amplifying it and guaranteeing it did much more damage than normal.

That both Raptors were now howling away, more sensitive to the noise than anyone had realized, only forced the five children into action –– their footsteps pounding through the way-out and into the presence of quite the crowd.

"Mama!" "Dr. Hughes!" These were only some of the cries that left the children at the sight of the adults that awaited them. Mary was personally floored at the sight of her mother carrying that rifle, having not seen a look like that in years and feeling imminently relieved the woman was handling a firearm.

"We'll have to get to the control room if we're going to restart the system!" Dr. Hughes curtly informed the others, sounding as though she'd been trying to get this point across for some time.

"No!" Mama's grip on the rifle tightened, "Our priority is to get the children out of here!"

However, Dr. Hughes was not alone in her rationale. Dr. Carson was soon respectfully interjecting, "Mrs. Crawley, if we can restart the system, we can call for help."

John Bates, on the other hand, didn't seem to see the need for a respectful tone, snapping, "Which means we'll have a better chance of _everyone_ out of here!"

Mama looked infuriated, rightfully so. However, she also looked to be in reluctant agreement. Yes, soon enough, the woman was speaking up again. Though, because it was Mama, she was altering the plan, "Fine! One group takes the children to the emergency compound, the other restarts the system!"

"We've only got _one_ gun! If we're to get out of this alive, we cannot afford to split up!"

"All right, all right!" Mary was never one to see her mother surrender, but perhaps there was some merit to the scientists' opinion. Something the daughter would never admit. "The control room it is!"

_._

Sybil didn't know what was happening, not really. The world had been a blur of screams and a panic that languidly skimmed the surface of her thoughts, the girl feeling dragged through life from the moment she'd come back to everything, back at the fence. That someone was holding her once again, someone familiar and soothing and kind, only convinced the girl's mind to continue swirling back and forth into lucidity. There was some sort of alarm, something unpleasant she really didn't like, something she wanted a break from.

"Dr. Carson," A lilt settled into her thoughts, breaking through the discomfort, coaxing a small smile from the girl, "If we're to get this system back on, I'll need you to hold Sybil."

"Why can't Mrs. Crawley––"

"Because Mrs. Crawley is in charge of that rifle and John and I'll need to access that computer if we're to finish rebooting the system!" The girl frowned at the anger, shrinking a little.

"Right." She felt more disorientation, more of something she didn't understand. "As you wish."

Soon enough, Sybil was being moved, passed from familiarity to an unknown. And though there'd been an initial sense of dread and rigidity, something that had Sybil tensing in discomfort, whatever surrounded her soon eased into a different type of familiarity. A feeling that she could drift into with no real concern, a different sort of comfort that still spoke of safety.

Unbeknownst to Sybil, Charles Carson really did have no qualms about taking care of or interacting with children. Moreover, he couldn't help but take in the fact that –– even though Sybil was certainly _not_ his child –– the thought of Elsie Hughes leaving him in charge of any child was a thought that warmed his heart in unspeakable ways.

The paleobotanist watched the woman in question as she hurried across to the first available computer –– sitting down to take control of the park's controls, as was the plan. But John didn't join her, having spotted the Raptor approach in the distance. The continuing fire alarm may have done a number on the creature, but the group didn't have much time if they wanted to remain alive and well.

"Dr. Hughes, we'll need the locks for the door before anything else!" Bates warned, trying to manually push the locks into place. When it became clear that the locks couldn't be moved by sheer will alone, that a computer would be necessary for this, Charles realized he had to help.

Placing Sybil in the care of her sisters and their friends, the paleobotanist joined John at the door, hoping that they'd be able to do something together. Cora stayed a short distance away, her rifle at the ready in case there was trouble. Seeing as the woman had just taken care of the fire alarm –– he wouldn't dare to question how the American knew her way around with fire alarms and screwdrivers –– they could focus solely on defending themselves.

Unfortunately, they would be no match for the Raptor when it arrived.

The creature was unyielding in its approach, relentlessly slamming its weight against the door. Charles put all of his strength into keeping it at bay, as determined as the dinosaur. All sounds –– John's demands for the door locks to become Dr. Hughes' priority, the snarls of the Raptor as it crashed into the door again and again –– faded to nothing as he felt a familiar weight press into him, the sensation handing him further strength.

Whoever it was was keen on helping them keep that door shut. Frankly, he didn't have time to question who it was. Didn't have time to do anything but remain committed as the dinosaur refused to give up in its hunt.

_._

Matthew watched with a sense of awe as Dr. Hughes leapt away from the computer and joined her colleagues, doing her best to stop the Raptor from entering the room. He could've never imagined any of the adults acting so cool, finding their courage to be inspiring, all things considered.

That inspiration was quickly snuffed out when he realized that there was no one handling the computers –– no one was making sure the system rebooted.

But that wasn't true, was it?

Edith, of all people, had been brought out of her own shock when the paleontologist rushed past –– the young girl quickly darting over to the nearest computer, fervently staring into the screen as it came back on.

"It's a Unix system," She whispered to herself, blown away by the fact. "Old fashion. I–– I know this."

"Of course you do," Mary muttered to herself. Though, if Matthew wasn't mistaken, the eldest's voice carried a trace of being vaguely impressed. And considering it was Edith, that meant more than her sister would ever say.

"What does that mean? What's a Unix system?" Tom asked, having approached the strawberry blonde in wonderment.

"It means that we've got the files for the whole park here –– this system tells you everything." She wouldn't question why her father, someone who apparently spared no expense in this endeavour, hadn't implemented a more sophisticated system in the process. All she could do was let her fingers soar across the keys, pursuing every option available to them, an action that had nearly all of the children grinning.

If only the Raptor's claws hadn't gotten a good grip on the door, threatening to push back the combined weight of all three scientists. Cora stood at the ready, refusing to tremble as she faced the reality that she was probably going to have to shoot someone in order to kill the creature.

_._

Anna Bates tended to consider herself a patient woman. At the very least, she had an understanding as to why patience was a necessity in life.

However, her husband was missing. None of the children were in sight. She had no real answer as to Dr. Hughes' whereabouts, Patmore having decided it would be in their best interest to regroup and wait to hear from Moseley before braving the outside world again.

And then Joseph had returned. Without a communication device, without anyone else in sight. And when he had finally pulled himself away from Phyllis –– something that had warmed her heart but only made her miss her husband even more –– they'd found out that Dr. Hughes and Dr. Carson were now in charge of resetting the park. Joseph had given them instructions on what to do. And now everyone was to wait until they heard from the two scientists before doing anything else.

But she was tired of waiting.

She was tired of waiting and not knowing a bloody thing about the situation.

The sole landline in the room shrilly rang out, extracting everyone's attention. That the phone was calling out to them possibly meant the one thing she was hoping for: the system had been restarted. But she didn't dare to believe anything until she heard the truth.

Mr. Crawley took hold of the landline at once, "Yes?"

" _Mr. Crawley,"_ Anna couldn't hold back the tears at John's voice through the phone, the sound proving that the system had been successfully reset. " _I've found Mary and Matthew."_

"And the others? What about my wife?"

" _They're all fine, Mr. Crawley."_ The patron sighed in relief, " _We just need to call those helicopt––"_

Glass shattered over the line.

Caused by three bullets.

_._

Dr. Hughes had grabbed the ladder to bring them into the ventilation system, knowing that traversing through the ducts would be infinitely preferable to being trapped in the control room. Dr. Carson had helped her with the ladder, the others falling into step quickly enough. John and the children went first, the two leading scientists making sure to secure the ladder as the others did so. Then the two old friends followed, Cora being the last to stay behind –– rifle poised to be ditched soon enough.

The American waited until the last possible moment to ascend up the ladder, making sure to forcibly knock it over before the Raptor officially broke into the control room. She knew this fight wasn't over by a long shot, but she was out of bullets –– having used them on the window to ward the monster off.

Now they needed to crawl.

Escape any way they could.

When the damn beast had shoved its head into one of the weaker sections of the ventilation system, sending Sybil flying in the process, the mother saw nothing but red. All that mattered was charging the Raptor, repeatedly slamming her legs into it, hellbent on sending it crashing into the ground. And once she made sure her youngest wasn't going to accidentally follow it, the mother ushered all of her daughters in front of her –– making sure they were the furthest from the danger.

_._

His body should've been on fire from all the exertion of the day. As it was, John Bates couldn't give into thoughts of pain, needing to think about how the hell they were going to get out of this situation. They had made it out of the ventilation system fairly unscathed, using the visitor center's construction scaffolding to escape.

But the sight of one of those bloody Raptors closing in forced everyone into one of the worst plans he'd ever witnessed.

Fossils were meant to be examined, skeletons meant to be studied. Not climbed all over as though they were toys. And seeing as how the weight of everyone scattering themselves out meant that these delicate skeletons –– hopefully only moulds of the real things, but John wouldn't put it past Mr. Crawley to do otherwise, especially seeing as how these were the main displays –– were on the verge of breaking.

That the Raptor had thrown itself into the fray, stopping at nothing to chase its targets, did not help matters.

Perhaps this was karma for scarring Larry Grey for life with that Raptor claw.

Even if it was, John still wasn't sorry.

But before he could debate the subject any further, the man heard the ropes supporting this exhibit begin to snap, losing control. He could watch in abject horror as the world swung up to greet him –– the skeleton he clung to being the only cushion he had in this fall.

The others were screaming, shrieking out for help, plummeting toward the ground against their will. He himself couldn't stop his leg from having a spasm, incessant pangs throbbing throughout his body as he struggled to get back to his feet.

It was too late for anything.

They were surrounded.

They could only watch as the pair of Raptors encircled them –– a foreboding sense of glee stalking the steps of the creatures. Claws scraped against the floor, claws that _knew_ victory was in sight. Delight sank into the creatures' hisses, satisfaction lining their growls as the two dinosaurs lazily corralled the group toward the center of the hall.

John could only stare at the one who was determined to strike. The one he knew was the ringleader.

The one that was lunging forward––

_What?_

He never thought he would feel any gratuity toward the Tyrannosaurus Rex, not after the bloody thing had almost killed his wife. That it was now engaging with the Raptors, viciously ripping the creatures to shred, providing a distraction for them all to escape, giving them a chance to make it out of this alive…

Well, John could only suppose they would take whatever they could get.

Limping alongside the others toward the entrance, beginning to feel the impacts of this weekend once again, the man kept a sharp eye on everyone else –– making damn sure no one was left behind, not after everything.

When sunshine struck him, when he made it out of that infernal nightmare at last, all he could see was Anna sequestered in the back of one of the park's gas-powered vehicles. The sight was enough to bring him down the steps and toward his wife, collapsing only once he made it to her side.

"Anna," He was never leaving her behind like that again.

Not if he could ever help it.

_._

Much as Beryl Patmore thought Cora Crawley and Charles Carson to be two of the most reckless individuals she had ever encountered in life, she did also think it was a good thing they had both made it out alive.

If only because the redhead didn't want to even contemplate what would've happen to Robert Crawley and Elsie Hughes if they hadn't.

Still, relief or not, the redhead was in no mood to deal with either of them –– feeling irritated enough by the pair's stunt from before that she felt she could still bite off their heads for such stupidity. That both Mrs. Crawley and Dr. Carson were being ushered in the direction of the other vehicle, the one Mr. Crawley had taken over as the driver, was undoubtedly for the best.

Even better was the fact that Thomas Barrow had crammed himself into that other vehicle. The man was probably fixed on driving someone insane and was smart enough not to try anything with her. Having a spare rifle by her side always did help to keep the idiots in check.

In other words? It looked like there would be smooth sailing in her vehicle, all the way to the helicopter.

Phyllis had been kind enough to move to the front so the Bateses could sit together, Moseley dejectedly looking after the woman. Beryl personally didn't need any more unexpected acts of PDA from them, fully content to separate those two love birds. And with the two boys being sent to this vehicle by an overprotective Cora Crawley, the mother determined to ignore the official seating capacity of her own car by having her girls close at hand, it meant that the game warden didn't have to deal with any prepubescent crushes.

All in all, despite the residual pangs of discomfort that came with knowing in her gut that Bird no longer walked among them, Beryl couldn't help but count their blessings.

She'd come back for Bird one day, quite possibly in just seven.

However long it took, that was a promise.

_._

With Mrs. Crawley on her left and Charles on her right, the three daughters safely ensconced between them, Elsie finally began to let the weekend's events overtake her –– a drowsiness beginning to creep into the woman. That she had made it this far was a miracle, her body having been protesting much of this adventure since falling from that tree.

But before she could give herself a rest, there was one last task that needed to be taken care of.

"Mr. Crawley, Mrs. Crawley," Oh, dear, her voice had gone a little groggy. Elsie straightened up in vain, ignoring the concerned look that Charles was sending her. "After careful consideration, we have decided _not_ to endorse your park."

She didn't have to ask Charles to know this was also his opinion. No doubt, had she said anything to the contrary, he would've gone out of his way to correct her. Fortunately, at any rate, this was something they inherently agreed on, given what had transpired over the weekend.

The married couple grimly nodded at the statement, "We weren't expecting anything less."

Nodding to herself, satisfied that that was all taken care of, Elsie forced herself to remain for a wee bit longer. She could fall asleep when they made it to the helicopters or, better yet, when they were back in Montana. Really, seeing as how anything could happen in this park, she couldn't afford to give into exhaustion just yet.

As they continued to drive off toward the helicopters, her resolve began to weaken. She could only suppose it was the lulling rhythm of the drive itself, the road smooth enough to coax her into leaning against Charles' shoulder, inadvertently resting on the man.

"Elsie," When had her eyes shut? And when had they arrived at the helicopters? "Elsie, it's time to wake up."

Stirring back to consciousness at his voice, blushing as she realized she had unintentionally snuggled into him in her sleep, the woman tried to extract herself from the unwitting embrace –– though to no avail. It seemed Charles had been delighted by the very idea of snuggling, keeping an arm wrapped around her as he helped her out of the vehicle.

"Well now," She softly began. In the back of her mind, she knew that they needed to hop into that helicopter and get on with the escape, but she couldn't help but take her time. However, there was nothing else coming to mind. No witticisms, no words of wisdom –– only the desire to stay here for as long as they could.

"Shall we then?" He asked, gesturing to the aircraft.

"Before we do," There was something that bothered her, something that she had only recalled after finally resting in the car, "I've a question for you, Charles Carson."

The woman couldn't help the yawn that escaped, her exhaustion continuing to creep into her body even as she pointedly stared him down. Surprisingly enough, the man only carried a beam of tickled curiosity –– feeling comfortable enough to answer anything she had to ask.

"Go on." Not that she really needed the encouragement.

"What were you about to say? Right before the helicopter, right before we met Mrs. Crawley, what had you been about to say?"

Charles' beam only widened as he took the question in, a serious and honest air lining the man's smile. That she remembered that moment, that she was choosing _now_ of all times to ask about it, served to touch him beyond measure.

"Only that having children would imply that I was nowhere near you."

With a response like that, she could only have one reaction.

Reaching to properly embrace the man, she found the only reaction possible was to thoroughly kiss him.

That, and ask him one final question:

"And just _why_ couldn't we have children?"


End file.
